


The Heir of Slytherin (Chamber of Secrets)

by Lizzie Raine (particularlygeeky)



Series: The Snake Club [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Deaf Character, Deaf Harry Potter, Death Magic, Friendly Harry, Gen, Good Slytherins, Harry is a smol bean, Hogwarts Inter-House Friendships, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, Life Magic, Powerful Harry, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Slytherin Ron Weasley, but not Crabbe and Goyle, soul bonds
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-27
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2019-11-06 07:50:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 85,962
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17935766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/particularlygeeky/pseuds/Lizzie%20Raine
Summary: When Harry goes back to Hogwarts, he's prepared to have a great year where he makes new friends and learns more about magic.  But when a house elf shows up on his bed, he realizes that Hogwarts might be a little different.  Follow as Harry learns more about himself and about his friends.ReworkedInspired by:Through the Quiet Emerald by alwayslily22 and Des98  https://archiveofourown.org/series/1039565It Begins and Ends with Love by MaraRiall  https://archiveofourown.org/series/540172My Heart With You by floatsodelicately  https://archiveofourown.org/series/374015Please go read these works and support these authors.  THEY ARE AMAZING!!!!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry for deleting my story, but I needed to rework a lot since someone pointed out to me that it is too similar to Through the Quiet Emerald stories. I have changed several things, and it would be a good idea to read from the beginning. Please go read alwayslily22 and Des98's stories, since they are fantastic authors.
> 
> Bold is sign language  
> Bold with quotations is signed and spoken  
> Italics is Parseltongue, thoughts, and book titles  
> Bold and Italics is letters, articles, and others  
> Underlined is subtitles

            Dumbledore was furious.  All of his plans that he had carefully put together over the years were being destroyed before his very eyes.  He needed Harry to follow along dutifully, not bothering to question what he was told to do.  Now, he was living with his godfathers, happy and content.

            The fate of the wizarding world rested on the little eleven-year-old boy.  He was supposed to have been sorted into Gryffindor, supposed to hate everything about Slytherin house.  Harry should have gone back to the Dursleys, Sirius should still be in Azkaban, and Remus should be off living in a horrid apartment or on the streets.  None of this was supposed to have happened.

            “How can I fix this?  I’ve got the Wizengamot on my side, for now.  They’re convinced that an ex-con and a werewolf are not suitable guardians for a child, so maybe I can still keep custody of the child.  Maybe I can take Harry back to Privet Drive.  I have put wards up around the neighborhood to keep anyone with magic out.  He needs to feel isolated and alone.”

            Thinking back to the trial that had been happening when Harry went down to face Quirrell, he got even more angry, if that was possible.  Minerva and Severus had showed up at the trial, providing the Wizengamot the memories that Harry had given them.  Brilliant Minerva had figured out a way for that many people to watch the memories simultaneously.  That was when his influence in the Ministry began to evaporate.  Hardly anyone sent him letters asking for advice anymore, preferring to ask Amelia Bones or Minerva McGonagall.  Either way, he was losing his popularity among the most influential wizards in Great Britain.

            Dumbledore let out a roar and grabbed the nearest instrument, flinging it against the wall.  It shattered in a burst of silver and sparks.  Remarkably, destroying his invention had been extremely liberating.  The Headmaster grabbed the next one and threw it at the wall, too.  He continued until his entire office was in shambles.

            Of course, that was when an owl flew in through the window.  It was an official looking bird, with an official looking letter tied to its leg.  Dumbledore grabbed it and ignored the owl hooting for food and water.

            Upon opening the letter, a clear voice began to speak.  “Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, you are hereby summoned to attend a hearing at the Ministry on the 23rd of June at 2:00 in the afternoon.  This hearing is to determine the custody of one Harry James Potter.  Please prepare your statement and arguments and arrive at the Ministry precisely at 1:45 to check you into the building.  It would be wise to not be late.  Sincerely, Amelia Bones and Augusta Longbottom.”

            This was Dumbledore’s last chance to gain custody permanently for Harry, and he wasn’t going to waste it.  He looked around his office and waved his wand, fixing the broken instruments and setting them back on their little spindly tables.  He sat at his desk and pulled out a parchment and quill.  He set about writing his argument.

 

* * *

 

            Harry woke up to the sun shining in his eyes.  He had been at Grimmauld Place for nearly two weeks, and he was absolutely happy.  Sure, he had watched when Sirius and Remus received a red envelope, but they exploded it before Harry could ask what it was.  Kaida nuzzled into his neck, while Fluffy jumped onto the bed to give her boy a face full of slobbering kisses.

            “Alright, I’m up, I’m up,” Harry giggled as he searched for his glasses.  He pushed his dog away from him, and sat up in his bed, stretching and yawning loudly.

            Downstairs, his two guardians shared smiles as they heard the thump that meant Harry had gotten up, and Fluffy had jumped off of the bed.  It had become a morning ritual.  Harry would wake up whenever he wanted to, Fluffy would greet him with her kisses, he would get up and pad downstairs, his faithful pets following him.

            Sure enough, Harry trotted into the kitchen, his hair a mess from his sleep.  **Morning, cub,** Remus signed to him.

            “Morning Moony, Padfoot, Kreacher.  What do we have planned for today?”  
            “Well, we do have that Ministry hearing today.  Hopefully we can gain custody for you once and for all.  After that, we’ll head to Diagon Alley and check out the shops there.  I figure you’d want to look at the Apothecary so you can replenish your potions kit,” Sirius said, putting his copy of the Daily Prophet down.

            Harry nodded.  He knew that this hearing would decide who would look after him until he was an adult.  He knew that logically, there was no way that the Ministry would send him back to the Dursleys, but every time Harry thought about it, he went cold inside and began to tremble slightly.  
            “What do I need to do?” Harry asked.

            **I think you should just focus on being honest.  If they ask you questions about the Dursleys, just answer honestly, and don’t focus on how people will feel about hearing that information.  Other than that, we want you to eat and read one of your books or do something else equally relaxing until it’s time for us to go.**   Remus flicked his wand and a bowl and a tea cup set itself in front of Harry, as well as a tall glass.

            “What’s for breakfast?” Harry asked as he tickled Kaida’s sides.

            Kreacher walked into the kitchen and filled Harry’s bowl with oatmeal, flavoring it with blueberries and a lot of sugar and milk.  He also filled the glass with orange juice and gave him some tea.  **Good morning, Harry.  Kreacher hopes you slept well.**

            “I did, thank you Kreacher.  Fluffy really appreciated those steaks you left out for her last night.  She had to fight Kaida away so she could enjoy them in peace.”  Harry swung his feet as he worked through the bowl of oatmeal.  It was what he usually ate for breakfast, since it only required a small amount to fill him up completely and help him keep his energy up the entire day.

            Sirius was digging into his eggs and sausage heartily, while Remus only sipped at his tea.  It was a few nights before the full moon, and he wasn’t feeling the greatest.  It would be his first full moon with his godfathers, and they had decided that it would be best if Harry was spending the night someplace else.  Severus still made the Wolfsbane potion for Remus, but they didn’t want to take any chances.

            Sirius had made arrangements for Harry to spend the night with Neville and his Gran at the Longbottom estate.  What none of them mentioned was that he wouldn’t be spending any nights with his friends if the hearing didn’t go well.

            Harry finished his oatmeal, drank his orange juice and his tea, and took his dishes towards the kitchen.  He had barely made it five feet before Kreacher appeared and took them from him, telling Harry to go enjoy his morning.

            Once he was dressed for the morning (he had refused to wear dress robes, no matter what his guardians said.  Harry had a plan, and dress robes would ruin it), Harry decided that he wanted to spend some time in the outdoors.  He took Fluffy’s leash and Kaida wrapped herself around his neck, keeping him warm in the cool house.  They went up the stairs to the roof, where Remus had spent time planting a garden.  It was one of Harry’s favorite spots to be in, and he knew Neville would love it too.

            _“Harry, look at this flower!  It matches Ron’s hair!”_ Kaida said as she frolicked through the plants.

            Harry laughed out loud at that, thinking it was hilarious that there was a flower that indeed matched his best friend’s hair perfectly.  He tossed a ball to Fluffy, watching as she passed the ball between her three heads, tossing it high into the air and performing tricks to entertain herself.  His pets were incredibly intelligent, and he barely needed to care for them, though he showered them with love.

            Watching Kaida and Fluffy play around helped ease some of the anxiety Harry was feeling about his hearing later on.  He knew that Remus and Sirius were going to be there, as well as Aunt Minnie, Severus, and Madame Pomfrey.  They were going to throw everything they had at the Ministry, and they weren’t going to be gentle about what Harry had been through.

            Around noon, Remus came up to the roof to work in the garden a little bit and to keep Harry company.  Harry had brought up the potions book that Severus had given him for Christmas.  He was looking up the various ingredients for the potions, and jabbering out loud about how they could probably grow their own potions ingredients for the Wolfsbane potion.

            Eventually, they headed back inside, getting ready for the hearing.  Sirius met them in front of the fireplace in the sitting room, prepared to Floo over to the Ministry.  Remus took Harry through first, and Sirius followed with Fluffy.

            The Atrium was just as big and overwhelming as it had been when he had come for Sirius’s trial.  Harry watched the fountain burbling in the middle, with the various magical creatures looking up at the wizard and witch in awe.

            “I think Kreacher would rather die than have that sappy look on his face,” Harry whispered to Sirius, causing the man to guffaw loudly.  Several Ministry workers turned to look at them, smiling at the little boy they knew so much about.  While the Wizengamot might have backed Dumbledore, the lower level Ministry workers silently cheered Harry’s guardians on.

            The little group stood in the Atrium waiting to be escorted to the hearing room.  Behind them, the Floo fired up again, and, in quick succession, Severus, Minerva, and Poppy stumbled into the Ministry of Magic.

            “Aunt Minnie, Severus, Madame Pomfrey!  It’s so wonderful to see you again!” Harry cried happily.  He loved them just as much as he loved Remus and Sirius and all of his other friends.

            **It’s wonderful to see you, too,** Minerva signed.

            “Oh, Harry.  I know it’s only been a few weeks, but I am glad to see you again.  I’m especially glad that I’m not seeing you in the hospital wing,” Madame Pomfrey told her favorite patient with a wink.

            Harry giggled then turned to his head of house.  “Hi, Severus.  I’ve been reading that book that you gave me.  It’s super interesting.  Do you think I could help you with the Wolfsbane potion when I get back to Hogwarts?”

            “I think I could arrange that.  But only every once in a while.  After all, you need to focus on your own studies,” Severus said.

            “Oh, I already do.  It’s kind of hard to not stay on top of our homework with Hermione telling us to study all the time.  Draco’s nearly as bad as she is about school work.  But, maybe as an evening activity, sometime I could join you?”

            “Yes, child.  I think it’ll be a good idea if you pursue your passions.  Besides, after today, you’ll hopefully be living with your dogfathers.  It’d be nice if someone in your house could brew the Wolfsbane potion.”

            Harry nodded happily, skipping to each of the adults and giving them a hug.  If Sirius saw Severus with a soft smile on his face, he didn’t mention it.  He figured that if anyone could get Snape to smile, it would be Harry.

            Shortly thereafter, Auror Amelia Bones came striding up to the group.  “Good afternoon everyone.  Hi Harry, it’s wonderful to see you again,” she said, bending down to look at the young boy.

            “Hi, Madame Bones.  It’s great to see you, too.  Are you going to be at the hearing?”

            “Yes.  Since I’m Head Auror, I’m on the Wizengamot and I’ve been fighting to get more support for you and your guardians.  I’m going to escort you all to the room that the hearing is going to be held in.  It’s going to be a little scary, since Dumbledore has requested the entire Wizengamot to be present, but I want you to know that we’re going to make sure that you’re safe.”

            Harry nodded seriously.  “Is it the same room where Sirius had his trial?”

            “It’s one that’s nearby.  There aren’t many rooms in the Ministry that can house the entire Wizengamot.”

            “Thank you, Madame Bones.  I appreciate your support,” Harry said solemnly.  He remembered the woman from Sirius’s trial and how supportive she had been to Aunt Minnie as she built the case.  He doubted that Sirius would have gotten out of Azkaban as quickly as he did without the help of Amelia Bones.

            The group headed to the lift, cramming everyone in as best as they could.  It was rather uncomfortable with six adults in there, but none of them complained.  As the lift jolted to a stop, Harry tugged on Sirius’s arm.  “If we lose, you’ll help me stay away from the Dursleys, right Padfoot?”

            “You’re not going anywhere near those monsters.  If we have to kidnap you and take you to the Weasleys we will.  And I’m sure some of your other friends wouldn’t mind hiding you from the Ministry.”

            “I’m not so sure.  I haven’t gotten a single letter from any of them, even though I’ve sent several.  I don’t know why they’re not writing, but I figure it’s because they don’t want to be my friend anymore,” Harry whispered to his godfather.

            “We’ll figure out why you haven’t been getting any mail after the hearing, pup.  I’m sure something’s wrong, because I’ve met your friends, and at the very least, Pansy, Ron, and Hermione would write to you.  Right now, let’s focus on making sure you’re coming home with us legally.”  Sirius winked at the boy.

            It was comforting that these adults were willing to do anything to make sure he grew up safe and happy.  Harry was going to make sure that the Wizengamot listened to them, even if he had to pull out every Slytherin trick he had learned the past year.

            When they entered the courtroom, the entire Wizengamot sat up in the seats.  On the floor, instead of the single chair with chains that Harry had seen last time he had been there, there were six chairs on one side, and three chairs on the other.

            Harry sat on one of the chairs with Sirius on one side and Remus on the other.  The other adults sat around them, forming almost a protective barrier around Harry.  Remus had offered earlier in the day to interpret the proceedings for Harry.  Dumbledore was on the other side, along with two people that he had brought to testify on his behalf.  Harry tried to avoid looking at the Headmaster and the woman that would occasionally watch him when the Dursleys went out.

            **Welcome.  On behalf of Albus Dumbledore, the entirety of the Wizengamot are here to determine the fate of Harry James Potter.  Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore has claimed that Mr. Potter is his responsibility and under his care.  Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, Minerva McGonagall, and Severus Snape have contested Mr. Dumbledore’s claim.**

**We are going to have Dumbledore take the floor to present his argument.**

            The Headmaster stood up and barely looked at the boy he was trying to gain custody of.  Harry shrank into Remus’s side, seeking comfort from the werewolf.

            Dumbledore began to speak.  “ **When Lord Voldemort went to Godric’s Hollow nearly eleven years ago, Harry’s parents gave their lives to protect him.  Because of his mother’s sacrifice, Harry has an ancient magic flowing through him that protects him from the inevitable return of Voldemort.  However, the only way the protective magic works is if he lives with someone that shares his mother’s blood.  In this case, her sister, Petunia Dursley.**

**Due to the nature of the magic, the only person that could harm Mr. Potter is the one that shares his mother’s blood.  Harry could not have been hurt by the Dursleys.  As such, in order to protect the Boy Who Lived, he must be allowed to return to his aunt and uncle’s house for a couple weeks each year.**

**I have the testimonies of one Mrs. Arabella Figg, who was the Dursleys neighbor, and one Mr. Hector Babbitt, who is an expert in blood magic.”**

            Harry signed to Remus.  **Why is Mrs. Figg supporting Dumbledore?  She knows how awful the Dursleys treated me.**

Remus shrugged.  He had no idea why Mrs. Figg was listening and supporting Dumbledore.  From what Regulus had said about her, she had seemed just as concerned about Harry’s welfare as Reg did, even going so far as to help him look for Harry when he went to Hogwarts the year before.  He could only hope that Mrs. Figg was being blackmailed or some other thing, for Harry’s sake.

            Dumbledore called Mrs. Figg up to join him.

            **“Would you say, Mrs. Figg, that Harry Potter was safe in the home of the Dursleys?”** asked Minister Fudge.

**“Well, yes.  He was a little smaller than the other boy, but that’s not to abnormal for those muggles.  Harry often came to stay with me while Mr. and Mrs. Dursley ran errands with their son.  He was always in good condition and happy when I watched him.”**

**“Did you ever witness any abuse, physical or mental?”**

Mrs. Figg shook her head.  **“He frequently did chores around the house and sometimes in the garden, but most children do chores.”**

**“What else can you tell us about the living conditions of Harry Potter?”**

**“He was a happy and well-behaved boy.  He never was rude; always polite, he was.  Never had a bad word to say about anyone.  I would say he was perfectly fine with Mr. and Mrs. Dursley.”**

**“Thank you, Mrs. Figg.  Mr. Babbitt, could you stand please?”** Cornelius said to the other man that Dumbledore had brought in.

            This man was fidgety, his eyes never resting in one place for too long.  He was constantly moving, whether he was tapping his foot or playing with his wand or scratching at his nose.  He was short, not much taller than Harry was.  His brown hair was streaked with grey, and his smile looked almost feral.

            Cornelius looked down at the man.  **“Dumbledore said that you are an expert on blood magic.  What makes you an expert?”**

Mr. Babbitt wringed his hands at the question.  **“Well, sirs and madams.  I have written several books on the conditions and rules of blood magic.  I’ve researched Unbreakable Vows, Soul bonds, and the Protective Magic.  I’ve travelled extensively, researching the different cases that have popped up.”**

Amelia Bones stood up and asked the man a question.  **“Do you have proof of your credentials?”**

**“I wasn’t aware that I would be needing them in an informal hearing about the custody of a child.  I don’t normally testify in criminal trials, let alone something as small as this.  I owed Dumbledore a favor, and he asked me to explain the Protective Magic in front of the Wizengamot today.”**

Mr. Fudge spoke again.  **“Well, why don’t you explain Protective Magic to us, then.”**

**“As far as I know, Protective Magic has been around since wizards began to appear on the earth.  When someone gives their life to protect another, they are protected by this magic.  The one that was killed the protector cannot harm the protected in any physical way.  There are some conditions.  The protection only lasts until the person reaches adulthood, at which point, it is assumed that they are capable of protecting themselves.  On their seventeenth birthday, the Magic is broken and they are on their own.  The other condition is that the protected must stay with someone that shares the blood of the one that died.  As long as they call that place home, they are safe.**

**“There are a few exceptions.  If the family is abusive in any way, then the magic is void and there is no Protective Magic in the person.  If the family rejects the protected, then the protection is not complete and void.”**

The Wizengamot broke out into whispers at this statement.  The adults sitting by Harry exchanged hopeful glances.  Dumbledore’s only argument could be easily disproved by their presentation, and that meant the Protective Magic was void and unnecessary for Harry.

            Mr. Babbitt, having finished what he had to say, sat back down, going back to fidgeting with his clothes and wand.

            Minister Fudge held up his hands, encouraging the witches and wizards around him to quiet down.  **“Dumbledore, do you have anything else to add?”**

**“Yes, Minister.  Mr. Potter is our only hope of one day defeating the Dark Lord for good.  We can only achieve this outcome by allowing Harry to stay with his relatives.  They are critical for Harry’s development into the person that can take down Voldemort.”**

A wizard that Harry vaguely recognized stood up.  **“Can you prove that, Dumbledore?”**

**“I have studied the way Voldemort worked ever since his downfall.  I know that Harry is critical to saving the wizarding world, and that he needs to be prepared in every possible way to face Voldemort when the time comes.”**

The same man continued to address the Headmaster.  **“Wouldn’t preparing by going to school and learning Defense Against the Dark Arts be enough?  Or do you plan on putting him through Auror training while he is still going to school?”**

**“It is his character that needs preparation, Mr. Zabini.  He has to become exceedingly brave and kind in order to face the kind of evil he will one day see.”**

**“My son is one of his classmates.  According to him, Harry faced Quirrell, one of the teachers you hired, in order to rescue one of his friends.  He was also attacked multiple times throughout the year, yet treated every single person with kindness.  Blaise said that friendliness between the houses has never been higher since Harry started at Hogwarts.  I’m sure Madame Longbottom could agree, since Harry Potter is good friends with her Gryffindor grandson.”**

Dumbledore glared angrily at the man who was so effectively destroying his arguments.  **“I have been a leader of the wizarding community for decades.  I defeated the last Dark Wizard to terrorize Europe.  Of anyone here, I know what Harry needs to do to prepare to face Voldemort.”**

Minerva had finally had enough.  Standing up, she walked to the middle of the room and looked at the Minister.  **“Cornelius, may I say something?”** The Minister nodded his head at her.  **“We are assuming that You-Know-Who is going to return, but there’s a good chance that he comes back while Harry is still in school.  Dumbledore, are you going to force Harry to be a child soldier to fight in a war that he shouldn’t have to face?  Why not take steps to prevent You-Know-Who’s rise to power rather than focus on forcing children to fight your battles for you?”**

Next to Harry, Sirius whispered to Madame Pomfrey.  “Oh, that was brilliantly said.  Well done, Minnie.”

            Poppy shushed Sirius, though there was a smile on her face as she did so.

            In the Wizengamot, Dumbledore could see several people nodding their heads, agreeing with Minerva.  To his horror, he even saw some of his proudest supporters looking at him with glares on their faces.  This hearing was not going how he planned at all.

            Harry looked at the Headmaster’s face, able to feel the barely concealed rage rolling off of the man.  Fudge looked down on his old friend.  **“Albus, do you have anything else to add?”**

**“Only my closing statements, Minister.”** Minerva walked back to the side of the room, and Dumbledore began to pace, looking directly at as many of the Wizengamot as he could.  **“Esteemed members of the wizarding community.  I am not thinking of one person when I argue for the continued custody of Mr. Potter.  I am thinking of the fate of the world.  You may not believe me now, but Voldemort will return, and he will return soon.  Harry Potter is critical for the survival of muggles and wizards alike, and he must continue on the path that will lead him to be the strongest enemy of the Dark Lord.  He needs to become the hero that can stand bravely before Voldemort which can only be achieved by remaining with his relatives.  Until such time as his role in the upcoming war is needed, he must stay with the Dursleys, as the Protective Magic demands.”**

Dumbledore walked to the edge of the floor and sat back down on the chair that was provided for him.  He was watching his old friend, Cornelius Fudge as the man struggled with what to say after his final argument.  A movement out of the corner of his eye drew the Headmaster’s attention to Harry Potter.

            The boy walked to the middle of the room, staring up at the various witches and wizards.  “Minister Fudge, esteemed members of the Wizengamot, I would like to address you.  In the past, my guardians have attended the various meetings and trials that have been held to determine who I should live with.  There have been far too many of these meetings.  You have all the proof you’ve needed.  There was my parents’ will that stated that they didn’t want me to be anywhere near the Dursleys.  Minerva McGonagall has shown you my memories of living with them.  You have a talented Healer that did my first physical exam.  If anyone knows how badly I’ve been treated, it’s her.

            “Yet, we’re here for another hearing, where I suspect, we’ll end up with another stall.  You’re not just voting to change Floo regulations, you’re voting on whether a child lives or dies, because if I go back to the Dursleys, they will kill me as fast as they can.  And they will do it painfully.  You are adults.  You are supposed to be protecting children, not using them.  I may be a famous child, but I’m not even twelve years old, and I have more scars than most Aurors.”

            Harry paused in his tirade to whip off the sweater he was wearing, letting his scars from the beatings he had received stand as evidence to the Wizengamot.  “These stripes, they’re from being hit with a belt because I couldn’t hear my uncle tell me to make him a brandy when I was seven.  This burn scar was when my Aunt Petunia threw boiling oil on me.  These round burn marks are where my uncle put out his cigars on my skin.  You can see my ribs.  I’ve tried all year to increase my appetite from repeated and extended starvation.  Madame Pomfrey can tell you that I only recently have been able to eat more than one piece of toast for any meal.

            “I’m sorry if this sight sickens you, but this is what you’re voting on.  This is what you are deciding will happen.  As I’m sure you know, it’s best to make an informed choice.  I know that Professor Dumbledore has been an admired and prominent figure in the wizarding world.  I know that you’d like to believe him when he says that I was happy, but look at the evidence before you.  Make your decisions based on your own beliefs, not on how much someone is paying you.”

            Harry picked up his sweater and walked back towards his guardians who were all staring at him in shock.  He smiled easily at them.  **They needed to hear the truth, no matter how ugly it was,** he signed to them.

            Remus had a few tears trailing down his cheeks while Sirius was ashen.  Neither of them had really heard about where the various scars had come from.  Minerva was openly weeping as was Poppy, while Severus was sitting silently, his face made of stone.

            Minerva managed to collect herself enough to take the floor.  On his seat, Harry refused to put his sweater back on, knowing that seeing his broken body might help people vote to keep him with people he loved and who loved him.

            Remus forced himself to pay attention to the proceedings, knowing that he needed to interpret what was happening for Harry.

            Minerva was pale and shaking, but she stood tall and proud before the Wizengamot.  **“You have all heard Harry Potter and what he has to say about his living conditions.  Is there anything else you would like to ask, Minister?”**

**“No.  As Mr. Potter said, we’ve already seen the results of his tests when he first got to Hogwarts as well as the memories that you provided for us Professor McGonagall.  If there are no other questions from the Wizengamot, we will proceed to the deliberation.”**

After waiting a few moments, no one offered any further questions.  Minerva sat down again as Fudge turned to his secretary.  **“Make note of the time.  All in favor of Albus Dumbledore’s claim to custody, raise your hand.”**

            Only four people raised their hands.  The petite toad-like woman that Harry remembered from Sirius’s trial, Draco’s father, another shifty-looking man, and Cornelius Fudge himself, who was looking sorrowfully at Harry.  (Minerva would bet her entire life savings that Dumbledore had somehow blackmailed the man into voting for him.)  At the low number of votes, Harry felt his hopes rise.

            **“The vote has been noted.  Now, all in favor of Sirius Black’s, Remus Lupin’s, Minerva McGonagall’s, and Severus Snape’s claim to custody, raise your hand.”**

The adults broke out in tears as the rest of the Wizengamot raised their hands immediately.  There was no hesitation among any of the witches or wizards that voted to allow Harry to stay with his godfathers.  Harry whooped in delight, hugging Sirius tightly around his neck.  Madame Pomfrey was sobbing in ecstasy while Severus grinned for the first time since he was friends with Lily Potter.

            The court was dismissed, and Harry, feeling the cold of the courtroom suddenly, put on his sweater, covering up his scars.  Sirius visibly relaxed at that, and he put his arms around his godson, while pulling Remus in to join in their embrace.

            Unnoticed to the party, Dumbledore left the room, scowling.  Any trace of the usual merry twinkle in his eye was erased completely.  His plans were completely ruined.  There was no way that Harry Potter was going to defeat Voldemort.

            Everyone ignored the sullen old man as several members of the Wizengamot came to congratulate the celebrating group.  Fudge stopped briefly, offering his whispered apology to Minerva.  Mr. Zabini, Madame Augusta Longbottom, and Amelia Bones all came up to Harry.

            Blaise’s father was the first to speak to his son’s friend.  “Harry, I want you to know that what you did today was extremely brave.  Not many almost-twelve-year-olds would have the courage to scold over a hundred adults and be completely correct.  I’m proud that you ended up in the same house as Blaise.”

            Sirius came over and shook the man’s hand.  “Harry, Mr. Zabini has been one of the few people that have been consistently on our side.  He’s been fighting for us from the start.”

            “Thank you very much, Mr. Zabini.  I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your efforts.  Besides, you’ve raised your son well.  He’s just like you,” Harry said as he shook the man’s hand.

            “Please, call me Giovanni.  We’ve always said that any friend of Blaise’s is automatically part of our family.”

            Harry grinned up at Giovanni.  “Does this mean that you consider the Weasleys your family, too?” he asked cheekily.

            Giovanni Zabini looked horrified for two seconds before his face hardened.  “We will join them in being blood-traitors, because we Zabinis never turn our backs on our friends.  If, as Dumbledore says, Voldemort returns, we will not stay neutral.  We will fight alongside you, Harry Potter.”

            “Thank you, Giovanni,” Sirius said, extending his hand to their family’s new friend.  “You have been an invaluable ally this past year.  I can’t tell you what that means to Remus and I.”

            “It has been a pleasure.  Besides, what Harry said was true.  We need to care for children in any possible way.  I don’t think I could have accepted it if we you lost custody.  I probably would have helped you take him to America or France.”

“Well, I can’t deny that the thought hasn’t crossed my mind, but we don’t need to worry about that anymore.”

Giovanni let out a chuckle as he looked over Sirius’s shoulder.  “I think you’d better rescue Harry from the embrace of Madame Longbottom.”

            Sure enough, the only thing that was visible of the little boy were his legs.  Augusta was a matronly lady, stern, but kind.  She was the perfect guardian for Neville; pushing him to be the best version of himself he could be, but not letting him get away with anything.  She was the kind of person that would send a Howler and a box of Cauldron Cakes at the same time.

            Sirius approached the woman.  “Madame Longbottom, it’s been a while since I last saw you.”

            Augusta let go of Harry and embraced the Lord of the House of Black.  “Sirius, it has been too long.  I can’t tell you how happy I was when we found out that you were innocent.”

            She let go and stepped backwards, taking in the appearance of the ex-convict.  “Well, you’re looking a little better.  You’ve definitely put on some weight, which is a relief since you were all skin and bones when I last saw you.  Neville wanted to come today, but I thought it would be best if he stayed at home.  Are we still taking Harry in a couple of days?”

            “That’s the plan.  Remus and I are so thankful to you.  It means the world to us that you are willing to help take care of Harry when Remus is indisposed,” Sirius said.

            “Nonsense.  I’ve been saying it for years; Remus is a wonderful man, and deserves as much love and help as he can handle.  Besides, Neville’s been worried sick about Harry.  He hasn’t heard from him at all since summer began.  He’ll be glad to see his friend this weekend.”

            “What do you mean?  Harry’s written Neville at least every other day.  Hedwig is almost constantly gone, delivering letters to his friends,” Sirius said.

            Augusta frowned.  “I think something might be wrong then.  Neville’s gotten several worried letters from Hermione, the Weasleys, and the other Slytherins, asking if he’s heard from Harry.  No one has gotten anything from him.”

            “Remus and I are still getting our mail.  I wonder if someone’s intercepting Hedwig?” Sirius mused.  It was a concerning problem, one that they would have to look into as soon as possible.  For now, though, he was going to take Harry to Diagon Alley to celebrate the day.


	2. Chapter 2

            It was on the steps of Gringotts that Harry found himself tackled and squished into a hug.  Sirius and Remus grinned at their godson as two of his friends crushed him in a desperate hug.  Harry finally managed to squirm free, though Blaise and Theo refused to move far from their friend.  In fact, Theo flung an arm around Harry’s shoulders while Blaise began to sign quickly.

            **Everyone’s been so worried about you, Harry.  We all thought that you had gone to those horrible muggles since we haven’t heard anything from you.**

“What do you mean, no one’s heard from me?  I’ve sent out several letters a day, trying to talk to you all.  I haven’t gotten a single letter from you lot.”

            Theo turned Harry’s head, so he could read his lips.  “We’ve been trying to contact you ever since the end of school.  It got to the point where Draco threatened to send his house elf out looking for you if we didn’t hear from you within a week.”

            “I don’t understand.  If I’ve been writing you, and you’ve been writing to me, where did all of those letters go?” Harry asked, puzzled.

            Blaise and Theo both shrugged their shoulders.  Then, they turned to the two adults nearby.  “Hey Sirius, Professor Lupin.  It’s nice to see you again.”

            Remus came up to the boys and shook their hands, smiling down at them.  “Please, call me Remus.  I was only your teacher for a little while.  Sirius and I are going to take Harry to Gringotts to hash out some details.  It shouldn’t take longer than an hour, and if you boys are still around, we could take you out to eat.”

            Theo and Blaise exchanged a look.  Theo was the one to speak up, though.  “We’ve only just got here.  Blaise’s dad had work and his mom is taking care of her sister.  My mum’s in the bank, but I think it would be okay with her.”

            “We’ll see you soon, then.  How about we meet in front of Florean Fortescue’s ice cream shop in an hour?” Remus said.

            After exchanging good byes, Sirius and Remus each took one of Harry’s hands, and led him up the steps to Gringotts.  The inside was just as big and brilliant as it was the first time he had come.  There were several wizards and witches lined up in front of goblins.  There were also several goblins that were weighing gold bricks or inspecting piles of jewels.

            Sirius led the way to a goblin that was looking over papers.  “Hullo, Griphook.  We’re here about Harry Potter’s inheritances.”

            **“Very well, if you’ll follow me, please.”**

Harry looked at Griphook excitedly.  “You know how to sign?”

            **“I figured it would be a good idea to learn if my favorite client is deaf.  Besides, it’s rather fun to know a language that none of the other goblins can understand.”**

            Grinning, Harry began to sign back.  **My friends and I will sign in class when we don’t want to disrupt other students.  Aunt Minnie catches us though, and she’ll glare until we stop.  It’s rather funny.**

            **“Ah, here we are.  If you’ll step inside the office, Graglug, the head of this office, will be in shortly.”**   Griphook left the room, leaving Remus, Sirius, and Harry to make themselves comfortable.

The three of them took their seats, Harry’s legs swinging back and forth.  “Sirius, what are we doing here exactly?”

            “Well, pup, we’re here to make sure that you’re named the Heir of the Black estate and find out what other Houses you’re Heir to.”

            “What other Houses could I be Heir to?” asked Harry curiously.  He hadn’t heard about being an Heir or the different Houses before.

            “Well, obviously you’ll be Heir Potter, but there’s a chance you might be Heir Peverell, too.  Draco is Heir Malfoy, Blaise is Heir Zabini, and Theo is Heir Nott.  I think Pansy might be Heir Parkinson, but I’m not sure about that.  Either way, you’ll receive all of the rights and privileges that come with being an Heir as well as their particular magic signature and the signet rings that show that you’re the Heir.”

            Harry nodded, recognizing that this process was very serious and solemn.  “Remus, are you the Heir of any Houses?”

            “No, I’m not.  I’m not a descendent of the Most Ancient or Ancient Houses.  However, you might be.  And we’re here to find out what Houses you’re Heir to.”

            Griphook reentered the room, followed by an older goblin.  This one was much shorter than even Harry, due to his hunched over back.

            “Welcome, Lord Black and Mr. Potter.  My name is Graglug and I will be performing the Heir procedure today.”

            Harry looked at Sirius in shock, not sure what the term “procedure” meant.  Griphook noticed the look.

            “ **Don’t worry, Harry Potter.  We will only need a few drops of your blood into a potion we already have made.  Then, we will poor the potion over a parchment, and it will tell us all about which Houses you are Heir to and what magical capabilities you possess.”**

Harry let out a sigh of relief.  “I thought that you were going to open me up and take my heart or something,” the boy joked.  The adults didn’t laugh and neither did Graglug.  Griphook, however, smiled at Harry, giving him a small wink.

            “Now, Mr. Potter.  If you would be so kind as to hold your hand over this bowl, palm up.”

            Doing what he was told, Harry watched with interest, as Graglug pulled out a silver knife from a fancy box and placed the tip to his index finger.  Blood welled up, and Griphook placed a potion vial underneath his finger.  The drops fell into the clear liquid, and it immediately began to change colors.  It turned red, then black, then blue, and finally green.

            Once the potion settled back into the clear color, Graglug pulled out a parchment and Griphook carefully poured out the potion onto the paper, coating the entire thing in a thin layer.

            Harry watched carefully as words began to appear on the parchment.  Graglug let the parchment dry and then handed it to the boy in front of him.

Hari James Potter

Heir to the Most Ancient House of Black by adoption

Heir to the Ancient House of Potter by blood

Heir to the Most Ancient House of Peverell by blood

Heir to the Most Ancient House of Slytherin by conquest

Secondary Heir to the Most Ancient House of Malfoy by blood should current Heir be unable to accept the Lordship

Secondary Heir to the Most Ancient House of Longbottom by adoption should current Heir be unable to accept the Lordship

Heir to the House of Evans by blood

 

Magical Abilities

Death Magic

Life Magic

Trace of Protective Magic

Parseltongue by blood, conquest, and Dark Magic

Parselmagic

Horcrux—Tainted with Dark Magic

Eligibility for a Soul Bond

 

Relationships

Father:  James Fleamont Potter

Mother:  Lily Potter nee Evans

Godfather:  Sirius Black

Godmother:  Alice Longbottom

Personal House Elf:  Cricket

Black Family House Elf:  Kreacher

Potter House Elves:  Willow, Aspen, and Locust

 

Friend of Goblins

Friend of Dragons

Friend of House Elves

Friend of Merpeople

 

            Harry read through the paper eagerly, with Remus and Sirius reading over his shoulder.  Harry read through the list of Houses he was Heir to three or four times before moving to the Magical Abilities.  He wasn’t sure what Death Magic was or what a Horcrux was, but he thought that the others sounded pretty cool.  He was particularly interested to realize that Neville’s mother was his godmother.  He handed the parchment back to Graglug.

            “Congratulations Lord Potter, Friend of Goblins.  We will retrieve the various rings from the respective vaults so that you can wear them.  We will also need to remove the Horcrux before you claim any of the Houses.  I expect that your guardians will wish to speak to you about this particular development.”

            The two goblins left the room.  “Sirius, what did Graglug mean about the Horcrux?  What is a Horcrux?”

            Sirius and Remus exchanged looks, debating on whether or not they should tell Harry.  They seemed to reach a decision, since Sirius knelt on the floor in front of his godson.  “You know that Regulus went to that evil lake, he was there to retrieve something evil that You-Know-Who placed there.  Well, it was a Horcrux.  A Horcrux is a piece of very dark magic.  Someone splits their soul into a separate piece and places it in an object.  The only way to accomplish this is to murder someone.”  
            Harry looked sick.  “Does that mean that Voldemort split his soul and stuck a piece inside of me?”

            “We think so, Harry.  It’s a horrible piece of magic, and we’re not sure how to get it out of you.  It’s nearly impossible to destroy a Horcrux,” said Remus, looking like he was picking his words carefully.  There was obviously something else about destroying Horcruxes, but Harry decided that if his godfathers wanted to tell him, they would.

            The goblins entered the room, carrying three boxes.  “Lord Potter, it’s time to get that Horcrux out of you.”  Graglug took the three boxes from Griphook and set them on the desk, while Griphook found a bowl.

            Sirius stood up and faced Graglug, careful that Harry couldn’t see his lips.  “How are you going to do that?  Everything we’ve found about Horcruxes says that the host has to be permanently destroyed by basilisk venom, Fiendfyre, or the Killing Curse.  We are not killing my godson.”

            “Relax Lord Black.  We have developed a way to extract the soul piece without damaging the host.  Lord Potter will be perfectly fine,” Griphook grumbled.

            Graglug approached Harry and had the boy sit all the way back on his chair.  “Lord Potter, this procedure will hurt a little bit, but once it’s done, you will feel far better than you have in your life.”

            Harry nodded, and sat very still as Graglug chanted strange words over him.  As soon as the goblin started to chant, Harry felt a part of his body begin to fight back.  To Sirius and Remus, they watched as their godson’s head began to jerk back and forth, almost as if he was having some kind of fit.  Harry’s eyes turned red, and his pupils turned from their normal round shape, to snake-like slits.  They watched nervously, ready to jump in and stop the process.

            All of a sudden, Harry lurched forward, vomiting into the bowl that Griphook had held out to the boy.  The vomit was a thick black sludge, moving around in the bowl, almost as if it was alive.  Harry sat back, breathing easily and wiping sweat from off of his forehead.  He peered at the sludge in disgust.

            “Was that in my body?” Harry asked.

            “Unfortunately, yes.  I would assume it entered your body on the night that you got your scar,” Graglug said.

            As they watched, the sludge began to fade into a mist, before disappearing entirely.

            Remus knelt in front of Harry.  **Are you okay?  Are you feeling well?**

“Moony, I’m fine.  In fact, like Graglug said, I feel better than I have my whole life.  It almost feels like a weight has been lifted from my chest.”

            “If Lord Potter is feeling alright, we will commence with the bestowal of the privileges of three Most Ancient Houses and one Ancient House,” Graglug said.  At Harry’s nod, he took the first box from the pile on his desk.  “Lord Potter, I bestow upon you the privileges of the Ancient House of Potter along with all the responsibilities that comes with the title of Heir Potter.  With this ring, you will adopt the magical signature of the Potter family.”

            He opened the box and a simple band shone brightly from within.  It was a lovely red with a white gold band in the middle.  Graglug picked it up and instructed Harry to hold out his right hand.  He slipped the ring onto Harry’s ring finger, and the boy watched in awe when it shrunk to fit and then disappeared.

            “What happened to it?” Harry asked in astonishment.

            “It is invisible when you don’t need it, but will appear when you want it to.  In the meantime, you will feel the powers and signature of the Ancient House of Potter settle into your core now.”

            Indeed, Harry felt a warmth in his soul, starting at his chest and spreading through his fingertips.  It felt like his body was vibrating and the room was humming, though the room was silent.  Harry touched his ring finger, and could feel a ring resting there, even though he couldn’t see it.  He focused, and the beautiful red and white gold band shimmered into existence.

            “That’s incredible,” Harry breathed out.

            “Indeed, Lord Potter, it is.  Now, if we could continue, that would be wonderful,” Graglug groused.

            Harry smiled sheepishly.  “Of course, Graglug.”

            The goblin took the second box from the desk and opened it.  “Lord Potter, I bestow upon you the privileges of the Most Ancient House of Peverell along with all the responsibilities that come with the title of Heir Peverell.  With this ring, you will adopt the magical signature of the Peverell family.”

            This ring was also a simple band, like the Potter ring, though it was mainly silver and black with a blue gemstone in it.  Harry watched quietly as Graglug placed that ring on his finger, and the warmth rushed over him.

            The last box was brought out, and Graglug began to bestow upon him the third title of Heir.  “Lord Potter-Peverell, I bestow upon you the privileges of the Most Ancient House of Slytherin along with all the responsibilities that come with the title of Heir Slytherin.  With this ring, you will adopt the magical signature of the Slytherin family.”  The silver ring with an emerald shimmering brightly was slid onto Harry’s ring finger.

            Graglug then turned to Sirius.  “Lord Black, if you would.”

            Sirius pulled a ring from his finger and handed it to the goblin.  “I, Sirius Black, Lord of the Most Ancient House of Black, claim Harry James Potter as my rightful Heir and bestow upon him the privileges of the Most Ancient House of Black along with the responsibilities that come with the title of Heir Black.  With this ring, you will share the magical signature of the Black family along with me, current Lord of the House of Black.”

            The plain, black ring was slid onto Harry’s finger, joining the rest of the rings and disappearing.  Harry touched the place where the rings lay, and was surprised to only feel one on his hand.  He supposed the rings were made that way so it wouldn’t be difficult to wear.

            “Lord Harry James Black-Peverell-Slytherin-Potter, you are now the rightful Heir and Lord over the Houses of Potter, Peverell, Slytherin, and Black.  The only way for someone to take your Heirships away from you is to kill you.  No one can forcefully remove the rings from your hand while you are alive,” Graglug instructed.  “Congratulations, Lord Black-Peverell-Slytherin-Potter.”

            Graglug walked out of the room, carrying the boxes with him, no doubt to return them to the proper vaults.  Griphook was about to follow, when Remus called out to him.

            “Griphook, we’d like to discuss Horcruxes.  This isn’t the first time we’ve found one with a piece of Voldemort’s soul.  Is it possible for you to track down the others?”

            Griphook sat behind the desk, motioning for the adults to retake their seats.  “Horcruxes are extremely dangerous.  If You-Know-Who did indeed create more than one, then he will most likely return within the lifetime of Lord Potter.  Might I ask where you found this other Horcrux?”  
            Sirius and Remus exchanged a look, seeming to hold an entire argument without every saying a word.  “What we say in here cannot leave this room,” said Sirius.  “It is vital to the safety of Harry and the safety of a third party.”

            “You have my word, Lord Black.  I will not disclose the information that you choose to share with me in this room.”

            “My brother, Regulus Black, is actually alive, and supposedly died when he retrieved a Horcrux that Voldemort placed in a hidden location.  He had the family house elf store it in Grimmauld Place.  When Remus and I cleaned out the place, we found a gold locket about the size of an egg, with a large green “S” on it.  Neither of us could open it, and figured that it was full of Dark Magic.  Kreacher stole it from us when we were going to throw it out, and gave it back when we were reunited with Regulus.  We have it in the Black Vault,” said Sirius.

            “I know of the locket.  It was commissioned by Salazar Slytherin and made by a goblin by the name of Banluk.  I can retrieve the locket from your vault and cleanse it of the Dark Magic within it and return it to your vault,” said Griphook.

            Harry spoke up for the first time since the magic of the four Houses had settled over him.  “I understand that goblins believe that if an object was made by a goblin, it is owned by the creator, regardless if money changed hands.  I’m sure that Sirius agrees with me, but I don’t want anything that was touched by Voldemort in my possession if I can help it.  Please, take the locket and return it to its rightful owner.”

            Griphook was surprised, to say the least.  “You, Lord Black-Peverell-Slytherin-Potter, are an anomaly in the wizarding world.  Not many wizards of any age care about the customs of goblins.  I believe the title of Friend of Goblins is well-given.”

            “Thank you, Griphook, but I’m just doing what’s right.  Also, since you’re in charge of my accounts, I would like you to call me Harry.  No more of this Lord Black—Slytherin—Peverell—Potter business.”

            “As you wish, Harry.  I will retrieve the locket, cleanse it, and return it to the descendants of Banluk,” said Griphook with what could be considered a smile for goblins.

            Before they left, Sirius grabbed the parchment listing everything about Harry, and stuck it into his pocket.  “Listen, Harry, this isn’t something you go around sharing with people.  Only tell people that you trust, and even then, only when necessary.  Someone could target you to conquer the Houses you are Heir to.”

            “I won’t tell people unless I discuss it with you first.  Will that work?” Harry said.

            “Yeah, pup.  That’ll work.  Now, let’s go meet Blaise and Theo.”

            Their business done in Gringotts, the little family left the large, white building and made their way to the nearby ice cream parlor.  They had barely sat down with their ice creams (Remus, of course, got chocolate, while Sirius went for a raspberry mint swirl, and Harry decided he wanted a simple mint chocolate chip) when Blaise and Theo came running up to them, dragging an out of breath woman behind them.

            “Hey, Harry.  Have you been waiting long?” Theo asked.

            “No, we just sat down,” responded Harry.

            The woman regained her breath and held out her hand to the young boy, a bright smile on her face.  “You must be Harry.  Theo and Blaise have told me all about you.  It’s wonderful to finally meet you.”

            “Thank you, Madame Nott.  It’s wonderful to meet you, too,” Harry said.

            “Do you mind if I set these bags down at your table while we go get our ice creams?” Blaise asked, though he was already piling a dozen shopping bags on the chairs across from the little family.

            Sirius let out a loud laugh.  “Go right ahead, Blaise.  You go get your ice cream.”

            It wasn’t long before Theo, Blaise, and Madame Nott came back, carrying their treats and trying to keep them from melting all over their hands.

            Blaise threw himself into a chair next to Harry, while Theo sat across from him and next to his mum.  “Harry, you must tell us about your summer so far,” said Blaise.

            Harry shuffled his feet and focused on his ice cream for a few minutes before speaking.  “Well, I very nearly ended up at the Dursleys.  Dumbledore had arranged for them to pick me up from King’s Cross and kept Sirius and Remus from meeting me there.  I went into muggle King’s Cross, and Uncle Vernon found me and told me that he was there to take me back.  Fluffy bit him on his leg, and I ran and found my way to the Leaky Cauldron.  Tom let me use his fireplace to Floo to Grimmauld Place.

            “Other than that, the only big news is that Remus and Sirius officially have custody of me.  Dumbledore asked for the entire Wizengamot to vote on the issue, and they finally agreed to keep me away from the Dursleys for good.  By the way, I met your dad, Blaise.  He’s really nice,” said Harry.  “Also, we can’t tell Draco that his father voted in favor of Dumbledore.  He would be heartbroken.”

            The boys quickly agreed.  They had all seen how upset Draco was after Sirius’s trial, and they had no desire for a repeat before the semester even began.  Instead, they decided to talk about the upcoming year at Hogwarts, especially who their new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher would be as well as the teacher that would teach the new BSL class.

            “I still can’t believe they are offering a class for BSL.  I mean, it’s very cool, but Aunt Minnie and Severus didn’t need to do that for me.”

            Theo and Blaise looked at each other and grinned.  “It wasn’t actually Professor McGonagall and Professor Snape’s idea.  Hermione came up with it, and enlisted everyone’s help in convincing the teachers that it would be a good class to offer.  Once Pansy threatened bodily harm and Draco threatened to tell his father and the rest of the board of governors, they caved quickly.”

            “You guys didn’t have to do that.  In fact, none of you needed to learn BSL; I was just fine with lip reading,” Harry said, ducking his head in embarrassment.

            Blaise just grinned while Theo laughed loud.  **“You try telling Pansy or Hermione no.  I don’t think a hippogriff or a dragon could stop them when they have an idea.  Besides, it’s like we told you last year, we Slytherins need to stick together.  If that means learning a new language, then so be it.”**

            The boys went running around Diagon Alley, going first to Quality Quidditch Supplies.  The adults followed at a more leisurely pace, chatting about the weather, recent advances in Charms and Potions, and the new proposal for the Goblin Treaty.  Harry, Blaise, and Theo ignored the discussion going on behind them, but instead, chatted about the professional Quidditch season.

            “Ron’s favorite team is the Chudley Cannons.  I’m not fond of them, but they’re better than Puddlemere United,” said Harry.

            Blaise scoffed.  “Every team is better than Puddlemere United.  I like the Holyhead Harpies.  An entire team made up of female Quidditch players and they are all far better players than any of the men on Puddlemere United or the Chudley Cannons.”

            “I don’t know, I think Ireland has a fantastic team.  I mean, they are probably going to end up in the World Cup in a few years,” said Theo.

            “World Cup?  I thought that was football?” said Harry.

            The two other Slytherins exchanged glances.  “I’m sorry, Harry, but we have no idea what football is.  But the World Cup is the championship game between Quidditch teams from around the world.  Wizards and witches from all over the world come to watch.  It’s one of the biggest events in the wizarding world,” Theo explained rather boisterously.

            “That makes sense,” said Harry.  “You said the World Cup is in a couple of years.  Is it kind of like the Olympics in the muggle world?  They only happen every four years.”

            “You should tell us more about the Olympus.  But the World Cup happens every seven years.”

            “Olympics, and remind me to invite you to watch them over this summer.  It’s where all of the best athletes around the world compete to see who is the best.  The winner gets a gold medal, while the one in second place gets silver and third place gets bronze.  They are being hosted in Barcelona, Spain this year.”

            Blaise and Theo eagerly agreed, wanting to learn more about this strange custom that muggles had.  Their families had discouraged any interactions with muggles and muggleborns, but with the placement of a muggleborn in Slytherin house, their eyes were being opened to a whole new world.

            It was getting close to dinner time, and before they went to eat, Harry asked his guardians and friends if they could stop at Flourish and Blotts.  There were a few things from the procedure at the bank that he wanted to learn more about, particularly Life and Death Magics and soul bonds.

            Harry talked to one of the employees, and she led him to the one book they had on soul bonds.  At the mention of Life and Death Magics, she had simply shaken her head.  He immediately grabbed the book and paid for it, eager to get home and start learning about this new magic.

            Dinner was a delightful affair.  Harry ate more for one meal than he had in the last decade.  His friends noticed and they were eager to write to the other snakes that Harry was getting better after a year of trying to eat healthier.  Sirius laughed loud and long, the entire dinner, cracking as many jokes as he could.

            “Well, as wonderful as this evening has been, I think that it is time to be getting home.  Blaise’s father should be getting back from the Ministry in a few minutes, and we need to go make sure that there’s someone at home to greet your father when he gets home,” said Mrs. Nott to the group.

            Theo and Blaise groaned good naturedly, but followed Theo’s mum out of the restaurant they had eaten at.  Remus and Sirius followed, after first settling the bill, with Harry trailing after them.

            “Guys, I had an idea.  Maybe you could send letters to Remus or Sirius instead of me.  Hopefully that way, I’ll be able to get my letters, since we don’t know what is happening to my mail.  I’ll send a note to your parents the same way.”

            The boys nodded, already planning on spreading the word to their other friends, especially since Hermione was going crazy with worry for Harry.  It would be nice to be able to hear from Harry after two weeks of silence.

            Sirius watched the boys head off with Madame Nott, thinking that they were good boys.  He turned to Remus.  “You know, I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad that Harry got sorted into Slytherin.  He’s making great friends and he’s making a difference for them.  I don’t think that Theo or Blaise would be this excited about muggle things without Harry or Hermione.  They would have probably ended up as Death Eaters.”

            “Harry’s good for them, and they’re good for Harry.  After all, he needs all the love and affection he can get after living with those monsters for ten years,” responded Remus.

            Harry was blissfully unaware of the conversation between his two guardians.  Instead, he was thinking about his upcoming sleepover with Neville.  He was ecstatic to be able to see one of his friends again.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot changed in this chapter. Mostly in the adults talk, and a few sentences here and there.

            The next couple of weeks passed by quickly, and the new book that Harry had gotten lay forgotten on his bookshelf.  His birthday was coming up, though Harry didn’t realize it, since the Dursleys had never seen fit to tell him when his birthday was and had spent his whole life ignoring any important event that wasn’t about Dudley.  In fact, his birthday was just another day for him.  Sirius and Remus were busy planning a double birthday party with Neville, sending out invitations to the rest of their friends.

            Neville’s birthday was the day before Harry’s, and the boys’ respective guardians decided to celebrate their actual birthdays as a small affair among their families.  The day after Harry’s birthday, though, was going to be a party.  The Weasleys were coming, and were going to take Harry with them.  Mrs. Weasley had been sending Errol every other day, just to be sure that Sirius and Remus hadn’t changed their minds.

            When Harry woke up on Friday, July 31st, the last thing he expected to find was Sirius and Remus sitting on the end of his bed.

            **Happy Birthday, cub.**

            “It’s my birthday?” Harry asked.

            Remus and Sirius exchanged a glance.  **Of course, cub.  Did you forget about your birthday?**

“I guess I did.  It’s not really something that the Dursleys acknowledged.”

            **Well, what do you want to do today?** asked Sirius.

            “Could we go to a zoo?” asked Harry, thinking of how enjoyable the zoo had been last year for Dudley’s birthday.  At least, until the python got loose and Harry was punished for several weeks.

            **I know of a magic zoo that’s nearby,** said Remus.

            Harry’s face immediately lit up at the idea and the two adults chuckled lightly at the excitement he was showing.  Before anyone could say anything else, Kaida nearly pushed Sirius over and jumped onto the bed filling up as much of the bed as she could and nearly pushing Remus and Sirius out of the bedroom.

            _“Happy birthday, Harry.  I found a little snake outside that wanted to say hello to you_ ,” she hissed.

            “ _Really?  What kind of snake?”_ Harry hissed back.

            “ _I’d say she was a python of some sort, but she says that you have to come and say hello.”_

            _“Alright, I’m coming.”_ Harry laughed and jumped out of bed, pushing past his guardians and running down the stairs, Kaida and Fluffy hot on his heels.  “Sorry, Moony.  Sorry Padfoot,” he called behind him.

            Sirius transformed and followed after Harry, barking happily as he darted down the stairs.  Remus followed slowly, a smile on his face.  It was wonderful to see the two people he loved the most so happy after living in horrible situations for so long.   Sirius had been eagerly planning for Harry’s birthday for weeks, coming up with ideas that Remus had to immediately shoot down for fear of overwhelming Harry.  But, his enthusiasm was infectious, and Remus found himself being pulled along as they searched for the perfect present.

            When Remus got outside, he found Harry with a snake wrapped around his arm, giggling at the tickling sensation as the snake flickered its tongue out.  Padfoot was running around in circles, barking happily at his godson.  Kaida was riding on Padfoot’s back, shrunk to the size of an iguana.

            “Kaida, tell Harry that Kreacher made breakfast, if he wants to come in and eat now.”

            The dragon jumped off of Padfoot’s back and wound her way around Harry’s feet.  He looked down at her and made a hissing noise.  Remus knew that he was speaking Parseltongue, but it was still a little unnerving to hear.  He hadn’t quite gotten used to the way the language sounded, and it was a deeply engrained belief that a Parselmouth was evil.  Thankfully, there was absolutely nothing evil about Harry.

            Harry set the snake down in the grass and turned to his dogfather.  “Come on Padfoot.  Kreacher’s got breakfast ready.  Kaida says that she can smell sausages and bacon this morning.”

            The family went back inside where Kreacher eagerly greeted them.

            **“Happy birthday, Master Harry.  Kreacher left your present in the study upstairs.  But before presents, Master Harry must eat.”**   Kreacher poked Harry in his ribs with his long finger.  Harry wriggled away, giggling as he ran into the kitchen where the table was already piled high with food.

            “I really hope that I don’t have to eat all of this,” said Harry.

            Sirius transformed back, and sat at the head of the table.  Kreacher, Remus, and Harry gathered around the table.  (Harry always insisted that Kreacher join them for any family meals, since they declared him a member of their little family.)  Sirius raised his glass of orange juice.  “To Harry Potter’s twelfth birthday.  May he have a happy year and many more to follow.”

            Harry grinned at his godfather and took a sip of his orange juice.  He eagerly grabbed one of the pancakes and a couple links of sausage, placing them on his plate.

            As they ate their breakfast, Harry told them all about the Olympics Opening Ceremony he had invited Theo and Blaise to.  His two friends had watched in awe, since they had never seen anything like it before in the wizarding world.  Blaise had asked, “Does each country have its own culture?”  To which, Harry responded, “There are 195 countries, and most of them have their own specific culture.  Some even have multiple cultures in their country.  Its like, if you went to the United States, someone from New York would be very different from someone from Texas.”

            Needless to say, the boys were absolutely thrilled at the idea of the Olympics, and had decided that it would be a good idea to create their own form of wizarding sports competitions.  Blaise had decided that broom-racing should be a form of sport.  They could do both short sprints and long-distance flying.  Theo had suggested that dueling would be excellent for an Olympic event, since there would be clear winners.  A rather unintended side effect was that Theo was now eager to learn as much as he could about muggle traditions, even begging Remus to take them into Muggle London to find books on the different subjects.  Harry had gifted him with a book on the Religions of the World, figuring that that would be a good place to start.

            After they finished breakfast, Harry ran back upstairs in order to get ready for the day.  He decided that it would be a good idea to wear a sweater, and pulled out the one Mrs. Weasley had knitted him for Christmas.  He tended to get rather cold due to the rainy weather London sported.  Fluffy followed him up, just in case someone needed to get Harry’s attention.  However, Remus and Harry decided that it wouldn’t be a good idea to take the protective Cerberus to a place packed with magical creatures and animals.  So, she stayed behind, but only because Harry was taking Kaida in his sweater pocket, just in case something bad happened.

            The magic zoo was far more incredible than the Muggle zoo Harry had gone to with the Dursleys the year before.  He especially loved the demiguise and the thunderbird.  But the best part of the whole trip was meeting Newt Scamander.  He was taking care of a few bowtruckles, feeding them little nits and bugs.  Kaida trilled at the sight of the magizoologist, causing him to look up.

            “I’m sorry, but is that a dragon that you’ve got on your shoulder,” Mr. Scamander said.

            “Oh, yeah.  This is Kaida.  She’s a Norwegian Ridgeback that bonded to me last year.  Hagrid, the caretaker at Hogwarts, had an egg, and I was there when she hatched,” Harry responded.

            “Are you taking good care of her?”

            Kaida decided that this question was best answered by her.  She hissed at the man, saying, “Harry is the most wonderful bond-mate.  He takes care of me, and he can speak Parseltongue, too.”

            Newt smiled at the dragon.  “I’m very glad that he is taking care of you.  But I’m curious, how do you know Parseltongue?”

            Harry blushed a little.  “My grandma was from India, where I guess there are a lot of Parselmouths.  I’m also descended from the Peverells.  I’ve been able to talk to snakes my whole life.  What about you?”

            “Sadly, it’s taken me most of my life to learn how to understand Parseltongue.  I still can’t make the correct sounds to speak Parseltongue.”

            “I think it’s less speaking and more of a mental language.  I’m deaf, but I can still hear and understand Parseltongue,” said Harry.

            Newt’s eyes lit up at the idea.  “Tina, come over here.  This young man has a bonded dragon and can speak Parseltongue.”  A woman came out of one of the buildings nearby.  She was petite, with dark hair streaked with grey cut into a bob.  She was elegant, with crinkles around her eyes, as though she smiled frequently.

            “What is it, Newt?”

            “This is Harry.  He can speak Parseltongue with his dragon.  You know how hard I’ve been trying to learn how to speak that language.  He just told me something that is rather remarkable.”

            Mrs. Scamander smiled at the small group.  “I’m sorry, my husband gets rather excited.  If you would be willing to join us for tea?”

            Sirius and Remus grinned as Harry eagerly accepted and followed the elderly couple into the building that Mrs. Scamander had come out of.  Inside was an office with a parlor off to the side.  Mr. Scamander waved his wand and a tea set floated over to the small table.  He set down the bowtruckle on his shoulder in a little enclosure, complete with a small bonsai tree.  Mrs. Scamander, however, set about pouring the tea and cleaning up the paperwork that was spread over every flat surface.

            “Please sit down.  How do you take your tea?” she asked their guests.

            Newt came and sat down across from Harry.  “Now, what do you mean that Parseltongue is more of a mental language?”

            Tina smacked her husband on the arm.  “Manners, Newt.  If we invite someone to tea, then we’d better give them their refreshments.”

            “My apologies.  I’m afraid I neglected to introduce myself.  I’m Newt Scamander, and this is my wife Tina.”

            “It’s wonderful to meet you Mr. Scamander.  I’m Remus Lupin, this is Sirius Black, and this is our godson, Harry Potter,” said Remus.

            “Please, call me Newt.  I’m not fond of all of this ‘Mr. Scamander.’  I much prefer to be called by my first name.”

            Harry’s eyes were bright.  “Newt, I’ve read your book.  It’s rather incredible.  In fact, since I’ve gotten my dog and my dragon, I’ve read all about dragons and three-headed dogs.  I was wondering, what was your favorite animal to research?”

            “I don’t think it’s possible for Newt to choose a favorite.  If you ask him, it will end in him telling you about every animal that he’s ever encountered.  I doubt that you have time for that,” laughed Tina.

            “I can understand that.  I mean, if I could meet a thunderbird or a griffin, I would be so excited.  I met a sphinx last year, and her riddles were rather interesting.  They really made me think,” said Harry.

            “You’ve met a sphinx, you own a Cerberus and a dragon.  What other animals have you encountered?” Newt asked, leaning forward.

            “Me and my friend Ron took out a mountain troll last year during Halloween.  Other than that, I don’t think I’ve found any other animals.”

            Tina, Remus, and Sirius shared a smile.  It was obvious that they were kindred spirits, and could spend hours talking about the various creatures that were in the magic zoo.  Newt could certainly take up the rest of the day explaining the different qualities and properties of the animals.  Remus just chuckled.  He had seen how excited and eager Harry could get about learning new things.  He decided he needed to head off their conversation.

            “Mrs. Scamander, do I detect an American accent?”

            “Indeed, you do.  I used to live in New York.”

            “How did you meet Newt?”

            “Well, it was an incident involving a niffler.  It got loose in a bank, and I arrested Newt for neglecting to obliviate a no-mag, or a muggle.  Interestingly enough, that same no-mag is now married to my sister,” said Tina.

            They sat around, eating biscuits and drinking tea, getting to know each other.  Harry and Newt ignored the others in the room in favor of discussing how Parseltongue works.  They quickly progressed to Harry demonstrating the sounds that Newt needed to make to communicate with snakes.  Kaida sat nearby, laughing quietly at the horrible pronunciation of the learning Parselmouth.  Harry did his best to not laugh when, instead of saying “Hello”, Newt kept saying “Mushrooms.”  He patiently corrected as best as he could, and at the end of the visit, both Harry and Newt were giggling about the messed-up phrases.

            When it was time for Harry and his godfathers to head back to Grimmauld Place, Remus stopped for a moment, letting Sirius and Harry get distracted by the moon calves.  “Newt, Tina, I was wondering if you were free tomorrow night.  Harry is rather fond of you, and it would mean the world to him if you came to his birthday party tomorrow.”

            The couple shared a look, Newt obviously wanting to go, but checking with his wife first.  Tina looked at Remus.  “I think that would be lovely.  It’s not often we find people that share our love of fantastic beasts.”

            “Marvelous.  It’s at Number 12 Grimmauld Place in London.  The party starts at seven.  And I should warn you, it is a joint birthday party.  Neville Longbottom is one of Harry’s close friends and his birthday was yesterday.  We figured that it would be a good idea to have a party for both of them at the same time.”

            Newt and Tina both assured Remus that they would be there at seven, though they might be a little late.  Remus grinned.  This was going to be the best birthday that Harry had ever had.

            After supper, Harry decided he just wanted to spend some time in the study, reading.  He wanted to reread _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ , since he had met the author that day.  Happy to oblige, Remus and Sirius spent the evening keeping Harry company, playing Gobstones while Kreacher sat in a small armchair by the fire, knitting a sweater.  (Harry mainly wore sweaters, since he was so cold all the time.  All of the sweaters that he had gotten the year before had started to get worn through and needed to be replaced.)

            Harry felt exhaustion set into his body from all of the walking and excitement of the day.  He also knew that his godfathers were planning something big for the next day, and wanted to be well-rested.  After hugging his godfathers and bidding them a good night, he climbed the stairs to his bedroom, Fluffy trailing after him.  Kaida was laying in the fire in the sitting room, preferring the heat to the cold and drafty rooms of Grimmauld Place.

            When he opened the door to his room, Harry was shocked to see a house elf jumping on his bed.  All three of Fluffy’s heads snapped to attention and they watched the elf carefully, letting out the occasional growl.

            “Hello.  Who are you?” Harry asked politely.

            “Harry Potter!”  The rest of what the elf said was lost on Harry, since he still hadn’t gotten the hang of reading house elves’ lips.  Kreacher either used the spell for the subtitles or signed to Harry.

            “I’m so sorry, sir.  I’m deaf and I cannot read your lips.  I have no idea what you just said to me.”

            The elf broke out in tears, wailing something, and Harry quickly cast a silencing charm around his room so his guardians wouldn’t be disturbed.  “Look, I don’t want to be rude, but I really can’t hear you.  Kreacher uses subtitles sometimes, so if you maybe used those, I would be able to know what you’ve been saying.”

            The elf snapped his fingers and glowing words appeared above his head.  Dobby had heard of Harry Potter’s greatness, but not of his kindness, sir.  So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir.  Such an honor it is.

            “Well, it is nice to meet you, Dobby.  Is there a particular reason you’re here?”  
            Oh, yes, sir.  Dobby has come to tell you, sir. . . it is difficult, sir . . . Dobby wonders where to begin. . . .

            “How about you sit down and start from the beginning,” Harry suggested kindly.

            S-sit down!  Never . . . never ever. . . 

            To his horror and guilt, great big tears began to leak out of his bulbous tennis ball eyes again.  “I’m sorry, Dobby.  I didn’t mean to offend you or anything,” said Harry, putting his arm around Dobby.

            Offend Dobby!  Dobby has never been asked to sit down by a wizard—like an equal!  Your goodness, Harry Potter, Dobby never knew about.  That makes Dobby’s message more important!

            “What is it that you want to tell me?” Harry asked kindly.

            Dobby heard tell that Harry Potter met the Dark Lord for a second time, just weeks ago—that Harry Potter escaped yet again!  Harry Potter is valiant and bold!  He has braved so many dangers already!  But Dobby has come to protect Harry Potter, to warn him, even if he does have to shut his ears in the oven door later. . . “

            “Hang on, why would you have to shut your ears in the oven door?” Harry cried, horrified by the thought.

            Dobby cannot speak ill of his family, sir.  If they knew Dobby was here, Dobby would have to punish himself most grievously.  They have made Dobby iron his hands for not setting the table for afternoon tea.

            “That’s awful, Dobby.  Can’t you leave them?”  
            A house elf must be set free, sir.  And the family will never set Dobby free . . . Dobby will serve the family until he dies, sir.”

            “I wish I could help you.  I used to live with a family very similar to yours.  They liked to beat me and starve me for the littlest things.  Once, they shut me in my cupboard without dinner for breathing too loudly during their evening television show,” Harry said solemnly.

            Harry Potter has been through too much in his young life.  That is why Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts.”

            “What are you talking about, Dobby?  The only place I’m safer at than Hogwarts is here.  Besides, all of my friends go to Hogwarts.  I couldn’t leave Neville to the mercy of bullies or let Hermione study alone.  Besides, I’m pretty sure Pansy would kidnap me and take me to Hogwarts herself, rather than let me stay here.”

            No, no, no!  Harry Potter does not understand.  If Harry Potter goes back to Hogwarts, he will be in mortal danger.  He must stay where he is safe; he is too great, too good, to lose.  Tears were still leaking out of Dobby’s eyes, and Harry fished out a handkerchief for the elf to dry his eyes and blow his nose on.

            “Why would I be in mortal danger?  With Dumbledore as Headmaster, of course I’ll be in mortal danger.  He seems to think that the only way to defeat Voldemort is to make me go through struggles every year.”

            Dobby, however, didn’t hear anything past the Dark Lord’s name, since he screeched and covered his ears.  Speak not the name, sir!  Speak not the name!

            “Oh, sorry, Dobby.  I forget that people don’t like hearing that name.  We usually just sign it among my friends and family.  Anyway, why would I be in mortal danger this year?  I’ve already faced You-Know-Who twice.”

            There is a plot, Harry Potter.  A plot to make most terrible things happen at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry this year.  Dobby has known it for months, sir.  Harry Potter must not put himself in peril.  He is too important, sir!

            “I think it would be a good idea if you come downstairs and talk to Sirius and Remus.  They’re my godfathers and will want to know about anything dangerous or a terrible plot against me.”

            At this suggestion, the elf frantically shook his head, causing his overly large ears to flop back and forth across his head.  Dobby cannot be seen by anyone besides Harry Potter.  His family would not be happy.  All Dobby can say is that Harry Potter cannot go back to Hogwarts!

            “I’ve got to go back.  I’ve got friends there.  The first friends I have made my whole life.”

            Friends who don’t even write to Harry Potter? Dobby asked slyly.

            “Dobby, have you been intercepting my mail?  I know that my friends have been writing to me, since I talked to Neville and Blaise and Theo just recently.”

            The elf seemed to deflate a little bit.  “Dobby, why have you been taking my mail?” Harry asked.

            Harry Potter mustn’t be angry . . . Dobby hoped . . , if Harry Potter thought hi friends had forgotten him . . . Harry Potter might not want to go back to school, sir.”  Dobby pulled out an extremely thick stack of letters.  Harry could make out Hermione’s neat writing, Ron’s untidy scrawl and the fancy calligraphy of Draco.  He even thought he saw a scribble that looked like Hagrid’s handwriting.

            “Dobby, will you please give me back my letters?” Harry asked a little testily, but still being polite.

            Harry Potter will have them, sir, if he gives Dobby his word that he will not return to Hogwarts.  Ah, sir, this is a danger you must not face!  Say you won’t go back, sir!

            “I can’t.  I love Hogwarts!  Now, please give me back my letters.”

            Dobby shook his head, and when Harry lunged for the thick stack of letters, the elf snapped his fingers and disapparated.  Harry stumbled, and fell to the ground where Dobby had been a second before.

            He stood up and brushed off the thin layer of dust on his front.  Fluffy was there, sniffing him with one of her heads while the other two were searching the room for the intruder in her master’s bedroom.

            “I think we should probably tell Moony and Padfoot about Dobby.  They’ll want to know about this threat at Hogwarts.”  Harry darted back down the stairs and into the study, startling his godfathers.

            “Harry, what’s wrong,” Sirius said, forgetting to sign.

            “There was an elf in my bedroom.  He said that Hogwarts wasn’t safe this year and that I shouldn’t go.”

            Before either of his guardians could respond, they turned and looked at the study window.  Harry followed their gaze and saw a huge barn owl at the window.  Kreacher snapped his fingers from his place by the fire and the window opened, letting in the owl.  It swooped in, dropped a letter in front of Harry and immediately swooped out again.

            Harry knelt and grabbed the envelope, reading the fancy lettering on the outside.  Shaking, a little, he opened it and read.

 

**_Dear Mr. Potter,_ **

**_We have received intelligence that a Silencing Charm was used at your place of residence this evening at twelve minutes past ten, in addition to nearly every night for the past two weeks._ **

**_As you know, underage wizards are not permitted to perform spells outside school, and further spellwork on your part may lead to expulsion from said school (Decree for the Reasonable Restriction of Underage Sorcery, 1875, Paragraph C)._ **

**_Since you are now under the roof of a wizarding home, we would like to remind your guardians that Underage Sorcery is strictly forbidden, and any further infractions should be handled by said guardians.  Any major spellwork will result in a hearing and expulsion from Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry._ **

**_Enjoy your holidays!_ **

**_Yours sincerely,_ **

**_Mafalda Hopkirk_ **

**_IMPROPER USE OF MAGIC OFFICE_ **

**_Ministry of Magic_ **

 

            Sirius and Remus came over and read the letter from over his shoulder.  When they finished, Harry was extremely pale, breathing heavily and shaking.

            Remus turned Harry around and knelt down in front of his boy.  **Harry, are you alright?  Is everything okay?**

            “You’re not mad?” Harry mouthed more than spoke.

            **No, of course not, cub.  We’re just worried about you.  Why don’t you come and sit down and tell us everything that happened?**

            Harry nodded, letting a few tears fall from his eyes, before brushing them away.  Sirius asked Kreacher to get a cup of tea made and brought to the study.  The old elf immediately left the room, leaving Sirius and Remus alone to comfort Harry.

            He sat on the couch, staring into the fire, watching as Kaida slowly woke up and played with the sparks that were flying up into the chimney.  He spoke quietly, so quiet that his godfathers had to lean in closer to hear what he was saying.  “The Dursleys tried to keep me from going to Hogwarts.  It was ten lashes for every letter I received.  Ever since I was little, they’ve drilled into my head that magic doesn’t exist, that if something isn’t normal, then it should be hated.  I guess I wasn’t considered normal.  Every time they saw me do something I couldn’t explain, I would be punished.  I have nightmares nearly every night about what they’ve done to me.  Some of the things are too horrible to even think about, let alone tell anybody.

            “That letter—I’m terrified that I’m going to be expelled from Hogwarts.  I can’t handle not going back.  It’ll make all of this seem like a dream and I’ll wake up in the little cupboard, delirious from not eating or having enough water.  I don’t care if Hogwarts is dangerous this year, I need to go back, if only to prove that this is all real and I have people that love me.”

            Kreacher came back into the room with the requested tea and gently pushed the steaming cup into Harry’s hands.  Fluffy laid down at her master’s feet, trying to offer what comfort she could.  Sirius and Remus, however, were shocked.  They didn’t know what to do or say to what Harry had revealed.  Sure, they had known about the abuse, and that it was awful for Harry, but to hear him speak so openly and truthfully about what they did to him emotionally, it was heartbreaking.

            Sirius didn’t want to break the quiet, and so he gently sat down in front of Harry so he wouldn’t have to turn to see his hands.  **I am so sorry that they treated you so horribly.  I wish that I hadn’t gone after Pettigrew the night that your parents died, that way you wouldn’t have been taken to those horrible monsters in the first place.  I would give anything and everything to prevent you from ever having to live through what they did to you.**

**But, you are here with us now.  We love you, and short of a Death Eater or Dementor invasion at Hogwarts, we would let you go back.  Remember, you have Minnie and Severus there to watch over you, as well as all of your friends.  I doubt any of them would let you get hurt.  And, I’m not supposed to tell you this, but I think it’ll help.  Regulus has been gone since term ended because he is getting ready for the new school year.  Minnie hired him to be the BSL instructor at Hogwarts.  So, that’s another adult that will be there to protect and take care of you.**

**And if things get to be too much, you can send Hedwig home, and we’ll take you out of school and we’ll teach you all about magic right here.**

Harry stiffened, sloshing tea over his hands.  (Remus winced at the sight, knowing that the tea was extremely hot, but Harry didn’t even flinch.)  “Hedwig!  I almost forgot with the letter coming and everything.  Dobby, the house elf that was in my room, has been intercepting Hedwig to prevent me from contacting all of my friends.  He thought that if I thought they didn’t care about me, I wouldn’t want to go back to Hogwarts.”

            Remus let out a small smile.  **Well, that’s one mystery solved.**   The two adults shared a look that plainly said, “What if he was still _there_.  Who knows what they would have made their child believe.”

            Harry let out a shaky giggle.  “You’re doing it again.  You’re talking with your eyes.  Hermione says that only people who have known each other for a very long time can hold entire conversations without saying anything.  I told her that they only need to learn sign language to communicate without talking.”

            Sirius let out a loud guffaw.  He loved it when Harry told jokes, particularly deaf jokes.  He could just imagine the look of exasperation on the young witch’s face when Harry told her that.  It would match the many faces that Remus had sent his and James’s way when they were at Hogwarts together.

            Reaching out and ruffling Harry’s hair, Sirius got up. **I think it is time for you to head to bed.  We’ve got a long day ahead of us tomorrow, and you should probably make sure that you’re well rested.**

Remus, however, stopped them for a moment.  **Look, Harry.  I don’t want you placing a silencing charm around your room anymore.  I want to know when you’re having nightmares.  When we were your age, both Padfoot and I had nightmares almost every night.  The only way we were able to deal with them was by having someone we love comfort us and help us talk about our traumas.  We still get nightmares frequently.  If you are scared, I want to know, so I can help you.  Can you promise me that you won’t use a silencing charm anymore?**

            Harry hesitated, knowing that if they still struggled with nightmares, then they also needed as much rest as possible.  However, both Remus and Sirius were looking at him solemnly, and he realized that they were extremely serious (and yes, I realize that Sirius is always serious.)

            “I won’t use a silencing charm when I’m here anymore.  When I go to stay with the Weasleys though, I want to use one.  The last thing I need is to worry about waking up the whole house.  Is that okay?”

            Remus nodded.  “I think that’s a fair compromise.  Maybe, we can learn a charm to alert Ron or one of your other friends when you’re having a nightmare, so you only wake up the person that will best help you through your nightmares.  Maybe Fred and George could help us.  They’ve invented some pretty incredible spells, and they’re only fourteen.”

            Harry smiled at that.  The twins had proven themselves to be rather genius pranksters, and had quickly gained his respect and friendship.  Sirius was about to transform into Padfoot, when he remembered something else to tell Harry.

            “Reg is coming to visit tomorrow, and when he tells you that he is going to be teaching at Hogwarts, please try to act surprised.  He really wanted to keep it a secret, but I figured it would be helpful for you to know tonight.”

            “I’m rather good at acting.  I think I can manage to look surprised,” Harry said cheekily.  Sirius grinned and transformed into his dog form and followed Remus and Harry up the stairs, Fluffy trailing behind the pack.  Remus removed the silencing charm around his godson’s room, and tucked Harry in for the night.  Harry felt that he was safe and home at last, with two wonderful men that loved him with all their hearts.

 

* * *

 

            Neville was already at Grimmauld Place and helping Kreacher wash dishes from all of the cooking, when a tall man that looked a lot like Sirius swept into the kitchen.  Harry was busy tying balloons, and when he saw the man, his grip on the balloon slackened and it went whizzing throughout the entire kitchen.

            “Reg!  You’re back!”  Harry threw his arms around the mysterious man, surprising Neville.  His friend thought he had met all of the adults that Harry trusted and loved, and so this man was quite the shock.  “I was wondering when I would get to see you again?  Where have you been all summer?”

            The man just laughed.  He gently pushed Harry away so he could sign to the boy.  **I’ve been working on a surprise for your birthday.  Professor McGonagall asked me to be the BSL professor at Hogwarts this year.  I’m going to be teaching at Hogwarts.**

**Really?!  Oh, that’s so exciting!  I’m going to be able to see you every day then!**   Harry signed before hugging him again.

            Eventually, Harry pulled away, remembering his friend that was also in the kitchen.  “Oh, Neville, this is Regulus Black.  He’s Sirius’s younger brother that everyone thought was dead.  He lived on my street when I stayed with the Dursleys, and he’s the one that learned BSL with me.”

            “Hello, Mr. Black,” said Neville shyly.

            “Actually, I go by Regulus Sable now.  Are you going to be taking the BSL class?”  
            “Well, I’m trying to learn right now, so by the time I’m old enough to take your class, I’ll probably be fluent.  At least, Hermione will make sure that I’m fluent.  Besides, most of our friends can sign, and they sometimes have entire conversations without speaking, so I’ve had to learn how to read sign.  I’m just struggling with the actual signing.  You should see how fast Hermione can sign.  It’s a bit scary.  I think even Harry has a hard time reading her hands,” said Neville.

            “I haven’t met Hermione, but I’d like to see how well I compare to her,” laughed Regulus.

            It wasn’t long until the rest of the guests began to arrive, starting with Minerva and Severus coming through the Floo.  Harry gave each of them a big hug, telling them all about his adventure the day before at the magic zoo.  Aunt Minnie and Severus went off to put their gifts for their child on a table, as well as the presents they had brought for Neville.  After all, it wasn’t fair to only bring presents for one child when the party celebrated two.

            The adults went and greeted Sirius, Remus, Regulus, and Augusta.  Harry’s godfathers had decided that they needed to speak to as many trusted adults as possible, and this party was the best time to do it.  Dumbledore was getting out of hand, and they needed to surround themselves with adults that they trusted for when Voldemort returned.

            The Grangers were the next to arrive, and Remus had to escort them inside, since Grimmauld Place was warded against Muggles.  Hermione bounded inside and crushed Harry in a tight hug.  She began to talk a mile a minute with her hands, and Regulus realized that Neville was right.  This witch was extremely good with sign language, but it was rather difficult to keep up.  Harry simply laughed and took his friend’s hands, telling her to calm down and speak more slowly.  She blushed and nodded sheepishly before repeating her greeting and her concern for the wellness of her friend.

            Draco, Blaise, and Theo arrived in quick succession.  Theo’s mum dropped him off, since she had a prior engagement and his father was working late.  Giovanni and Narcissa accompanied their sons and were welcomed into the home graciously.  When Narcissa spotted Regulus, another wonderful reunion took place, with quite a lot of crying, since they were extremely close when they were younger.  Reg’s supposed death had torn Narcissa apart.  Giovanni simply greeted the man before moving on to talk to Remus and Augusta about werewolf rights.

            The three boys quickly joined Harry in blowing up balloons, laughing at the sounds they made when they were let go.  They had certainly never played with muggle-style balloons, and were fascinated with them.  Hermione simply laughed as the boys messed around and were introduced into another aspect of muggle culture.

            Pansy arrived next in a whirlwind of activity.  She had a huge stack of presents for her two friends, and she had to have Dotty, her house elf, help her carry them into the house.  Harry was swung around by his friend, before he turned to greet the house elf, he had met at the Parkinson Holiday Party last Christmas.  Dotty beamed at the boy, pleased to realize that he remembered her.

            Daphne and Millicent had been unable to come to the party, since they were out of the country, but they did send birthday presents to Harry and Neville along with a Howler of them singing Happy Birthday.  They also made sure to write a letter to Harry, since he wouldn’t be able to hear the dreadful singing coming from the envelope.  Gregory and Vincent weren’t able to come either, but they didn’t send any birthday wishes to either boy.  Draco was a little concerned by this.  They were the boys that his father had hand-picked as his bodyguards, since they weren’t the brightest boys in the world.  He was worried that they had listened to their parents’ lessons about blood purity, and had decided that Harry, who was a half-blood, Neville, who was a Gryffindor and a blood traitor, Ron, who was a blood traitor, and Hermione, a muggleborn, were not suitable companions.

            Shortly after seven, the doorbell rang, and Remus answered it, ushering in the elderly couple that had come.  Harry brightened instantly when he saw his new friends.  Newt waved at the young boy brightly, asking, in Parseltongue, if he had enough cabbage for bath time.  Harry laughed out loud at the horrible pronunciation of the snake language, and eagerly told the magizoologist what he had said.  Newt and Tina both joined in the laughter, as well as everyone in the vicinity.

            Finally, the Floo roared to life once more, and spat out a mass of redheads.  Harry eagerly greeted the Weasleys, ignoring the soot that covered their clothes.  Mrs. Weasley pulled him into a crushing hug, while Mr. Weasley pumped his whole arm vigorously.  Their daughter, Ginny, hid behind her father, glancing shyly at Harry.  Before he could speak to her, hoping to make her feel more at home, Percy got his attention.

            “How marvelous to see you again, Harry,” Percy said as he politely shook Harry’s hand.  Before the boy had a chance to respond, the twins pushed their way past their older brother.

            George took a hold of Harry’s left hand, while Fred took Harry’s right, causing him to cross his arms across his body.  “My goodness, Harry Potter.  How are you, old chap?” George asked with a snooty-looking face.  Harry, of course, couldn’t hear that he was using an extremely posh voice.

            Fred, with the same voice and expression, said, “How marvelous to see you again, Mr. Potter.  After all, we haven’t seen you in a month.”

            Percy glared at his brothers.  He knew that they were making fun of him, but at Harry’s joyful giggles, he decided to let it go, just this once.  No one who knew Harry could ever be upset after hearing him giggle.

            Ron shoved all of his brothers away, before finally having room to properly greet his best friend.  **Hi Harry!  Happy Birthday!**

            “Thanks, Ron.  I think you’ve gotten more freckles since school ended,” Harry teased, poking one of the spots on his friend’s arm.

            “It’s thanks to all the de-gnoming and Quidditch we’ve been doing.  I don’t think Mum’s let us spend a single day inside the whole summer.  I think she’s convinced the twins will blow the Burrow up if we let them stay in,” said Ron.

            Harry laughed at that, remembering all of the explosive pranks the twins had played on the school his first year.  There was a particularly memorable one when they had targeted the Slytherins specifically.  No one was sure how they had gotten into the common room (it was Hermione), but they had somehow managed to change the colors to red and gold on everything.  Not even the tables had been spared.  It had taken Severus a week to figure out how to reverse it.  Harry had still been finding little pieces of red around the common room when school let out for the summer.

            The Weasleys followed Harry down to the parlor and sitting room, where the rest of the guests were gathered.  Looking around, Harry noticed that Susan Bones, and her aunt, Amelia Bones, were there along with a quiet Hufflepuff girl named Hannah.  Harry greeted them warmly, welcoming them into his home.

            “It’s lovely to see you, Harry.  We were so worried when you were in the hospital wing for so many days,” Susan said before giving Harry a hug.  “My aunt told me about the hearing that you won.  She was so happy that you were able to go home to Mr. Lupin and Mr. Black.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen her that excited.”

            “Well, your aunt is a big reason why we were able to win the hearing.  We owe everything to her.  She was also the one that helped prove Sirius’s innocence,” Harry said.  “I’m really glad you’re here.  I had no idea that Madame Bones was your aunt.  I love her with all my heart.”

            “She is an incredible woman, and the greatest guardian I could have asked for.  By the way, is that man talking to McGonagall going to be at Hogwarts?” Susan asked.

            “Oh, yes that’s Mr. Sable.  He actually lived on my street when I was living with my relatives.  He told me that he was going to be the BSL instructor for Hogwarts.  I’m really excited to be able to see him all the time,” said Harry.

            “Really?  How does he know BSL?”

            “He actually learned with me.  He also helped me learn how to read lips, since my relatives didn’t like that I was deaf and refused to learn sign.  He probably saved my life.”

            “I can’t wait until I can take that class.  I overheard Cedric Diggory saying that he wanted to transfer into BSL this year.  He’s wanted to meet you, but he had no idea how to talk to you.  Hogwarts doesn’t see many kids with disabilities; Cedric wants to be a Healer, especially for people with irreversible illnesses,” said Susan.

            “If you want, I could help you learn sign language.  Well, Hermione is probably your best option if you want to learn, but I’m more than happy to help you and any of your friends.  And I’m sure Hermione is willing to help as well,” Harry offered.

            Susan gave him a big smile.  “I think I’d like that.  But, won’t your friends in Slytherin bully you for being a friend with a Hufflepuff?”

            “No.  At least, our year won’t.  I think we’re trying to change the reputation of Slytherin House to be far more inclusive.  After all, we have a Weasley, a muggleborn, and the kid credited for destroying You-Know-Who.  We’re changing everything.  Now, I can say that Slytherin House accepts everyone.  Neville is almost always in our common room; it’s gotten to the point where we just tell him the password whenever it changes,” said Harry.

            “I think I’d like to be friends with your friends.  If they really are as accepting as you say, I think we’d all get along brilliantly.”

            “Well, this party is a great time to get to know most of them.  We are missing a few snakes, but most of us are here tonight.”

            Harry led his new friend over to the rest of the group, before spotting Ginny again.  She was laughing with her brothers in the corner, and when she saw him looking her direction, she squeaked and hid behind Fred.  Neville engaged in a conversation with Susan, and Harry went over to the twins and their sister.

            “Hi, you’re Ginny, right?”

            The girl blushed and burrowed deeper into Fred’s back before nodding her head slightly.  “I’m Harry.  Ron told me that you love Quidditch.  Are you going to try out for one of the teams this year?”

            She nodded.

            “Which position do you want to play?”

            She must have said something, because Harry saw Fred say, “Ginny, he can’t hear you.  You have to get your face out of my back if you want to talk to him.”  
            The redhead emerged, blushing brilliantly before she said, “I’ve always wanted to be a Chaser.  I’ve watched Angelina, Alicia, and Katie play, and they’re brilliant.  I want to be just as good as they are.”

            “I’m sure that you will be.  Besides, you’ve got several brothers that played Quidditch.  When I stay with you guys, we could play together, and you can practice,” Harry said with a grin.

            Ginny and Harry and the other Weasley boys began to talk about Quidditch, dragging in Draco, Sirius, and Regulus.  Hermione rolled her eyes at the group, since she really hated any talk about Quidditch, and started up a conversation with Neville, Susan, and Hannah Abbott.  Blaise, Theo, and Pansy were talking with Remus, Augusta, and Giovanni about animal rights, particularly animals that either were humanoid or interacted with humans frequently.

            Soon after, presents were opened, cake distributed, and songs sung to the two birthday boys.  The students, minus Percy (who had found the library and was currently reading through a first edition copy of _Hogwarts:  A History_ ), trooped up to the study to play a game of Twister that Hermione, Fred, and George had given Harry.  While their friend was rather excited to play the game, they were eagerly waiting for the first time someone got out.  Draco was the first to fall, and suddenly became a bright blue color, all over.

            “Wizard’s Twister!” Fred shouted with glee.  “George and Hermione and I all worked together to make it more fun.  The color wears off once the game is done.  Until then, try to avoid getting out or you might find yourself turning yellow.”

            Harry laughed so hard at Draco’s horrified face, that he fell and turned red, which caused him to laugh even more.  “This is the best game ever!  Thanks guys!” he said through peals of laughter.

            Kaida came out of the fireplace, trilling happily and startling Susan, Hannah, and Ginny, causing them to fall and turn red, red, and green respectively.  Everyone else had seen the dragon before, and it came as kind of a shock for the girls that there was a real, live dragon in the study.

            Harry hissed at her, and she responded with a similar hissing noise.  Then, to the rest of the group, he said, “Kaida says hi to everyone.  She also wanted to tell Ginny that she likes your fire hair.”

            The group chuckled a little, thinking it was an accurate description of the girl’s hair.  She stuttered out a thanks.

            Susan looked extremely interested.  “Is that really a dragon, and did you just talk to her?”

            Harry didn’t hear her, but Draco answered for her.  “That is actually an interesting story.  We should probably tell you about what happened last year, but that is a long story, and if you listen, then you are an honorary Slytherin.”

            Susan and Hannah shared a look before they eagerly sat down.  Ginny had heard bits of the story, but wanted to know more, while the twins had already heard the entire story from Hermione.  Nevertheless, they all decided to listen in.

            Neville got Harry’s attention, and they all sat in a circle, with Kaida scampering around, playing with everyone and begging for pets on her head.  The Slytherins took turns telling the story, with Neville adding a few points every once in a while.  Susan asked questions occasionally, while Hannah just listened in awe.  When they got to the part about Quirrell and the Sorcerer’s Stone, they gasped in horror.  The very idea that Voldemort had been at their school, was terrifying.

 

* * *

 

             In the meantime, the adults were downstairs, chatting.  Prior to all of the guests arriving, Harry’s four guardians had decided to include the parents of his friends that were trusted, in the incompetence of Headmaster Dumbledore.  They also decided to tell them about the Horcruxes.

            Sirius started off the conversation.  “We need your help.  Harry has been put into far too much danger for a twelve-year-old, and we need adults we trust to help us.  If you do not want to know all about the danger our world faces, then I suggest you go join them in the study.  Also, fair warning, the things we’re about to share are extremely disturbing and horrifying.”

            The parents all exchanged looks.  They wanted to know what was so dangerous that they needed to know about, but they also didn’t like the idea of listening to anything disturbing or horrifying.  Narcissa was the first to speak up.

            “I think we’d all like to hear what you have to say.  I assume this has something to do with either Dumbledore or the Dark Lord, and I for one, want to fight against both.”

            Newt looked at the woman, offended.  “Excuse me, but Dumbledore is a great man.  He vouched for me when I was thrown out of Hogwarts.”

            Remus, however, spoke up.  “I used to think the same way as you.  It was thanks to Dumbledore that I was able to go to Hogwarts, but I’ve come to realize that he is raising children to be soldiers in a war better fought by adults.  He let Harry stay in an abusive home for ten years before sending him his Hogwarts letter, which, by the way, was the first time that he had heard about the wizarding world.  His relatives even told him that James and Lily were worthless drunks and were killed in a car crash.  And, just last year, he placed the Sorcerer’s Stone in Hogwarts behind defenses that were beaten by three eleven-year-olds.  The professor that attempted to steal the Stone, was possessed by Lord Voldemort, and was also one of the people who helped place the challenges to guard the Stone.”

            Molly gasped and flinched at the mention of the Dark Lord.  “You mean You-Know-Who was at Hogwarts last year?” she shrieked.  “Why didn’t Dumbledore tell anyone?”

            Everyone else in the room, looked at Remus expectantly, especially Newt.  He hadn’t really seen that side of Dumbledore, but when he thought about it, he realized that the man he had looked up to had used himself as a soldier in the fight against Grindelwald.  It was a common practice that Dumbledore had employed over the years.  Newt felt as though his whole world was crumbling and being rebuilt before his very eyes as his perceptions of his old teacher changed.  Several of the other adults felt the same way.

            Rather than Remus answer the question, Severus spoke up.  “Minerva and I approached Dumbledore several times, about our concerns regarding Quirrell.  However, he merely told us that we were overreacting and that we had no proof.  We were extremely close to simply calling the Aurors and tell them about Quirrell, but Dumbledore kept us distracted by trying to keep custody of Harry.”

            Arthur looked a little sick.  “You mean, Dumbledore knew about a danger towards our children and did nothing?  Is Hogwarts even safe anymore?”

            Minerva scowled.  “Dumbledore is an old fool and a dangerous one at that, but Hogwarts is still safe.  In fact, we are going to be employing an additional trusted adult to protect our children.  He has had experience fighting against You-Know-Who, and is a skilled dueler.  Unfortunately, Dumbledore is in charge of hiring the Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor, and after last year, we’re not sure if this one will be competent.  I will personally vouch for your students’ safety, and will do everything in my power to protect them, as will the majority of the professors at Hogwarts.”

            “So, Dumbledore, the greatest wizard in the world and the only sorcerer that You-Know-Who feared, is just as dangerous as You-Know-Who?” Newt asked.

            Remus shook his head.  “Not dangerous as in evil, but he is definitely manipulating us into chess pieces to fight a war and follow a plan we know nothing about.”

            Sirius spoke back up.  “I think it would be better to start from the beginning.  When Harry defeated Voldemort eleven years ago, Dumbledore had Hagrid take Harry to Privet Drive so he could be raised by Lily’s only living relative.  I went to hunt down Pettigrew, since he betrayed James and Lily to Voldemort, and ended up in Azkaban, as you all know.

            “Dumbledore refused to open the Potters’ will, and ignored their express instructions that Harry was not supposed to go anywhere near those muggles.  Instead, he wanted Harry to be protected by Lily’s sacrifice, that was null and void the second the Dursleys began to abuse Harry.  It wasn’t until he got to Hogwarts, that something was done to remove him from those horrible people.

            “Minerva and Severus worked together to prove my innocence, along with Amelia,” at this he nodded to the woman in the corner.  She knew all of this information, already, and was keeping quiet for the time being.  “When I got out, we started the fight to gain custody over Harry.  Only recently, were we able to win.  For something as minor as a hearing for a custody battle, Dumbledore demanded that the entire Wizengamot be present.  We believe he was trying to preserve his position over several of the members of the Wizengamot.”

            Giovanni spoke up.  “As a member of the Wizengamot, I was there.  Dumbledore called two witnesses to testify that the muggles were not abusing Harry, and that the Protective Magic was still guarding him.  I will never forget the moment that young Harry got up in front of us all and proceeded to scold us like we were the little children, not him.  He showed off his scars, and after that, no one could deny that Dumbledore was lying.”  
            Augusta and Amelia murmured their agreement.  They were some of the women that were weeping when they had seen the horrible marks on the small boy’s body.  They had been fighting alongside Harry’s guardians, and were planning on voting in favor of Sirius and Remus and the two professors, but it was cemented after Harry’s testimony.  They were willing to go so far as to help smuggle Harry out of Great Britain if Dumbledore had won.

            Sirius nodded at the three members of the Wizengamot before continuing.  “Then, there was all of the dangers last year.  We’re not sure, but we believe that Dumbledore purposely placed the Sorcerer’s Stone in Hogwarts to test Harry and make sure that he will be ready to fight Voldemort when he returns.”

            At this, most of the adults flinched.  The Grangers, however, just looked confused.  Mrs. Jean Granger spoke up.  “Hermione has told us about this You-Know-Who person, but she said that he was dead.  No one can come back from the dead, right?”

            Regulus spoke up for the first time.  “Usually, if a person dies, they remain dead, yes.  However, Voldemort had several precautions put in place to make sure that he would be able to come back.  It was extremely Dark Magic that he used, and he used it more than once.  For those of you who don’t know, I am Regulus Black, Sirius’s younger brother.  I watched over Harry when he was living with the Dursleys, and I will be the added protection at Hogwarts this year.  I believe it is time for me to tell you my story.”  Sirius nodded at this and his brother launched into his tale of working for Voldemort and then working against him.

            “I don’t know how many of you know what Horcruxes are, but they are truly horrible.  It is a way to split one’s soul in half, to render a person effectively immortal.  The only way to do this is to kill someone, as that tears your soul into bits and pieces.  I found a Horcrux in the bowl at the lake of Inferi.  We have that in the Black vault at Gringotts.”

            Sirius cut in again.  “The goblins actually have a way to remove Horcruxes.  We discovered this when we took Harry for the Heir Procedure.  One of the Magical Abilities that showed up was that Harry had a Horcrux in him.  We assume that it happened the night that Voldemort was defeated in Godric’s Hollow.  The goblins were able to remove the Horcrux, and we told them about the Horcrux in the locket.  None of us wanted to hang onto such an evil piece of jewelry, so Harry asked Griphook to return the locket to the goblin that made it.

            “As far as we can guess, Voldemort has made two Horcruxes, and he probably made more.  He’s the kind of evil that would be willing to create as many Horcruxes as he could.  However, we have no idea how to find them.  The point is, there is a strong likelihood that Voldemort will return and will return soon.”

            The room was silent for several minutes as they all absorbed this information.  Narcissa shuddered at the idea that the man who had took her husband away from her and turned him into an evil leech would return to try to do the same thing to her son.  Augusta looked like she was about to throw up, and Amelia was horrified.  As Head Auror, she had researched Horcruxes, and the idea that Voldemort had already made two, and that he most likely made more was not an idea that she liked to think about.  Newt and Tina, having already faced one evil sorcerer when they were younger as well as having lived through the First Wizarding War, couldn’t imagine the horrors that would be unleashed if Voldemort returned.

            Giovanni was the first to speak up.  “What do you want us to do to help fight against You-Know-Who?”  
            Remus took over for Sirius.  “Last time Voldemort was in power, there was a secret society that coordinated the attacks and counterattacks against Voldemort and his armies.  It was led by Dumbledore.  I don’t think the Order of the Phoenix should be revived in the future and certainly not with Dumbledore being the leader.  What we want is a group of witches and wizards that we trust who are willing to fight for their children.  As of now, this group is hypothetical, but we want to be prepared for the inevitable rise of Voldemort.”

            Mr. Henry Granger spoke up.  “Neither of us have magic.  And from what Hermione has told us, You-Know-Who hated non-magic people.  What are we supposed to do if You-Know-Who returns?  We can’t exactly fight him.  We’re dentists.”

            To the surprise of everyone in the room, Narcissa decided to say something.  “My husband was one of You-Know-Who’s biggest supporters.  I never agreed with any of that nonsense about muggles or muggleborns.  When You-Know-Who rises again, I will help you find a safe place to hide from any Death Eaters, including my husband.”

            Jean Granger smiled at the woman.  “Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy.  We both appreciate it.  Hermione has told us so much about Draco.  She loves Harry and everything, but I think she considers Draco to be her best friend.  Whatever you’ve done to raise him, you’ve done it well.”

            The two women smiled at each other and Jean moved to sit next to her new friend and ally.  The rest of the room watched in shock, realizing that this was a monumental moment for the destruction of pure-blood ideals.  The future generations would look on this moment as the start of equality and the beginning of a new age of unity between all people.


	4. Chapter 4

            When Harry woke up, he was disoriented.  He didn’t recognize the bright room that he was asleep in, and definitely didn’t recognize the orange color that decorated the walls.  He turned and groped around the nightstand, looking for his glasses and quickly put them on his face.  Turning on his side, he recognized a very familiar color of hair sleeping in a bed on the other side of the room.

            “Ron?  Where are we?” he groaned out.

            The figure moved in response to his voice, but didn’t get up.  Harry figured they were most likely at the Weasleys, since the plan was for him to spend the next few weeks with them.  He must have fallen asleep sometime during the party, and they had taken him to the Burrow.  He looked out the window, and saw several figures fly past.

            Deciding that he didn’t want to wait until Ron was conscious, Harry got out of his bed and headed down five flights of stairs and found himself in a cozy kitchen.  Dishes flew through the air, landing in the sink and washing themselves before whizzing off to get dried and put away.  In a bowl, he found bread kneading itself, while flour poured in to thicken it up.

            Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw a flash of red hair.  He turned as Molly Weasley came from outside, her face red, as if she had been yelling at her boys.  The instant she saw Harry, though, she broke out in a large smile.

            “Harry, dear.  I’m glad to see you up.  How about a spot of breakfast?” she said.

            “That would be lovely, Mrs. Weasley.  Is there anything I can do to help?”

            “Oh no, Harry, dear.  You are a guest, you don’t have to help with the chores.”

            Mrs. Weasley turned away from Harry and began to direct her wand to the different pots and pans on the stove.  A pack of sausages were placed on the pan and immediately began to sizzle, the smell floating throughout the house.  She must have yelled something out the kitchen window, because a few minutes later, Fred came in with a basket swinging in his hand.  Mrs. Weasley patted her son’s cheeks and took the basket before grabbing several eggs from within.

            Now that his task was done, Fred turned to Harry and scooped him into a giant hug.  George came into the kitchen and joined the hug immediately, squishing the poor boy between them.  Harry could feel Fred’s chest rumbling.

            “If you’re trying to talk to me, remember I can’t hear you,” Harry mumbled out from between the two.  They just squeezed him tighter for a little while longer before letting him go.  Fred picked Harry up and swung him onto his shoulders.

            “Hiya Harry!” George said.  “Fred says hi, too.  Wanna go play Quidditch with us?”

            Mrs. Weasley spoke up at that, causing Fred to turn towards his mum so Harry could see what she was saying.  “Harry needs to eat, and you both need to de-gnome the garden.  After the stunt you pulled earlier today, I better not find a single gnome out there.  George, why don’t you set Harry down and go wake up Ron.  It’s about time for him to get out of bed.”

            From his position on top of Fred’s shoulders, he could see the actual George throw a wink at him.  “Mum, he’s not George, I am!”

            “Oh, sorry Fred, dear.  Please go and wake up your brother,” Mrs. Weasley said as she set a plate on the table, piled high with sausages, eggs, and muffins.

            “I’m only joking, I am George,” Fred said as he set Harry down at the table, making sure to grab a napkin and tie it around his neck before heading up the stairs.  Harry just giggled at his friend’s antics before looking at the mountain of food in front of him with trepidation.

            “The sausages aren’t going to kill you, dear,” Mrs. Weasley said.

            “I know they won’t Mrs. Weasley, but I don’t think I’ll be able to eat even a quarter of this food.  I can barely handle one sausage link, one egg, and one muffin let alone all of this.”

            “Oh, that’s quite alright dear.  We wouldn’t want you to get sick.  How about you eat however much you can handle, and Ron can finish the rest.  Does that sound good?”  
            Harry nodded and grabbed the fork that was next to the plate of food.  He dug in eagerly, relishing in the taste of Mrs. Weasleys wonderful cooking.  It wasn’t long before his best friend joined him at the table, and ate just as eagerly as Harry did.  Fred walked by, winking at Harry before joining his twin in the garden.  Ginny came tumbling down the stairs, quite literally, before picking herself off of the ground and bouncing over to her mother.

            “Morning Harry!  Morning Ron!  Do you need any help in here, Mum?”

            “No, dear, I’ve got everything handled.  You go on outside.  Make sure that your brothers are actually de-gnoming the garden.  If they’re not, I’m going to make them come in and read what Gilderoy Lockhart has to say on the subject.”

            Ginny nicked a sausage before skipping outside, presumably to watch George and Fred as they did whatever de-gnoming was.  Harry looked outside longingly, but knew that he should at least finish one more egg.  Kreacher had made Mrs. Weasley promise, last night, that Harry would try to eat more while he was staying there.  As usual, the matriarch took this task very seriously, and watched Harry struggle through a fried egg, his face tinged green.  Before the war against You-Know-Who, Molly had wanted to become a Healer, and she had studied malnutrition and the effects it had on a child’s growth.

            Harry finished his egg and immediately started on another sausage link, determined to eat as much as he physically could.  However, before he was able to take the first bite, Mrs. Weasley put her hand on his.  He looked at the Weasley matriarch curiously.

            “You don’t have to eat that.  It won’t do you any good if you throw up your breakfast because you ate too much,” she said kindly.  “Now, why don’t you go wash up and head on outside.  It’s a lovely day, and I’m sure that you could use some fresh country air.”

            Once outside, Harry had to duck to keep from being hit in the face.  Looking at the flying object, he was surprised to see a grubby-looking potato-man, that was no taller than Harry’s knees.  He turned the direction the man-thing had come from and saw George smiling a little sheepishly.  “Sorry, Harry.  Glad you’ve got good reflexes, though,” he said.

            Behind George, Ginny and Fred were laughing, bent over and holding their knees.  Harry couldn’t help but join in.  He could never resist a good laugh.  He walked over to the three Weasleys and clapped George on his back.

            “I’ve had a lot of practice dodging the Bludgers you like to beat towards me,” he teased.

            George chuckled in response before turning and rattling a bush.  To Harry’s surprise, another of those weird potato-man-things fell out and started to run away.  George caught it easily, grabbed the thing’s legs, and whirled it in a giant circle over his head.  After a few whirls, George let go, and the thing went sailing over the garden wall.

            “What is that thing?” Harry asked.

            Fred came up after launching his own potato-man over the wall.  “Those are gnomes.  They’re rather ugly little things, and horrible nuisances, too.”

            “Doesn’t it hurt them when you throw them around like that?”

            “Nah.  We whirl them over our heads to make them dizzy so they can’t find their way back.  Course, they’ll be back within a week.  Dad’s really fond of them; thinks they’re funny.  They like it here.”

            “Is this de-gnoming then?”

            George flung another gnome over the wall.  “It’s not that bad of a chore, but it gets so hot outside, that it’s miserable to catch all of them.”

            Ginny giggled.  “Mum caught them playing Quidditch in the garden.  She started yelling at them, and Fred fell into Mum’s prize daffodils.”

            Fred glared at her before grabbing another gnome.  He didn’t bother coming up with a scathing response, and his siblings laughed at him.  Harry joined in, and Fred couldn’t help but smile at the joyful sound.  If Harry thought it was funny, then it definitely was worth all of the embarrassment.

            “Can I help you guys de-gnome?” Harry asked.

            “It’s rather unpleasant, but we won’t stop you,” said George grabbing another gnome and swinging it over his head.  This one sailed nearly thirty feet beyond the garden wall.

            Harry eagerly chased after the nearest gnome, and once he grabbed it by the ankles, he tried to swing it around.  He only wanted to drop it just beyond the hedge, but the gnome must have sensed his weakness, for it sank its razor-sharp teeth into Harry’s hand.  Harry gave a great shout and started to shake his hand.  He, himself, was too dizzy to see where it had gone to.

            He felt a hand on his shoulder, reorienting him.  George smiled at the boy.  “That was close to fifty feet.  You’re a natural at de-gnoming.”

            Soon, through the efforts of the twins, Harry, and with Ginny and Ron encouraging them, the air was soon thick with gnomes.  The twins, of course, turned it into a competition, seeing how many gnomes they could fling out of the garden, and how far they would fly.  To no one’s surprise, the twins tied in the most gnomes, but Harry beat them all with a seventy-foot launch.

            Once the garden was completely de-gnomed, Harry followed the Weasleys back inside the house.  He was a little surprised to see Percy sitting at the table with Mr. Weasley by him.  “What a night,” the man said.  “Nine raids.  Nine!  And old _________ Fletcher tried to hex me when I had my back turned.”

            Harry turned to Ron.  “Raids?”  
            Arthur Weasley heard him.  “Oh, hello, Harry.  Good to see you again.”  He stood up and shook Harry’s hand vigorously.  “I work for the Ministry in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office.  When we hear word of muggle artifacts that have been enchanted, we’ll end up raiding the place.”

            Fred spoke up.  “Did you find anything good, Dad?”

            “All I got were a few shrinking door keys and a biting kettle,” Mr. Weasley said through a yawn.  “There were some pretty nasty things that weren’t my department.  One fellow was taken away for questioning about some extremely odd ferrets, but that’s the Committee on Experimental Charms, thank goodness . . . “

            Ron had taken up signing to Harry, so the boy could keep up with the conversation.  George made sure to talk slowly enough so that Ron could interpret.  (Hermione was the best interpreter, due to how long she’s been signing.  But Ron was getting much better.)  George asked his dad, “Why would anyone bother making door keys shrink?”

            “Just muggle-baiting,” Mr. Weasley sighed.  “Sell them a key that keeps shrinking to nothing, so they can never find it when they need it.  Of course, it’s very hard to convict anyone because no muggle would admit their key keeps shrinking—they’ll insist they just keep losing it.  Bless them, they’ll go to any lengths to ignore magic, even if its staring them in the face.  But the things our lot have taken to enchanting is just ridiculous.”

            Mrs. Weasley cut in, scolding Mr. Weasley for all of his own muggle artifacts that he had tampered with.  Harry grinned, before turning to the other Weasleys.  “How about we go play Quidditch?”

            The twins, Ginny, Ron, and Harry all eagerly trooped out of the Burrow, heading to the open meadow nearby.  There were hoops set up for the Keeper to guard, and Fred got out an ancient set of Quidditch balls.  They decided to only use the Quaffle and one Bludger, rather than risk losing the Snitch.  Besides, there weren’t enough players to justify the use of the second Bludger.  Ron loved to play Keeper, so the group decided that he would guard the hoops against both teams.  Ginny and George were one team, while Harry and Fred were the other.

            The game lasted for several hours, and eventually they decided to call it quits when George and Ginny were fifty points ahead.  Harry had been bruised by the Bludger, and Fred had fallen off of his broom after a nasty smack from Ginny.  Ron spent most of the game laughing at both teams, rather than actually guarding the hoops.  It was rather humorous how competitive the twins got when they were pitted against each other.

            Just before they went inside, Fred turned and looked up at the sky.  He nudged Harry, and the boy looked up.  There was a giant dragon circling the house, before landing in the backyard.  Harry jogged over to the dragon, while it shrank to the size of a horse.  Ron realized that Kaida had flown from London to their home, just so she could be closer to Harry.

            He turned to where his mother was shrieking loudly.  “Mum, it’s okay.  I told you about the dragon that Harry bonded to.  This is Kaida.”

            “Dragons aren’t safe.  And it is certainly not okay to have a dragon land in my backyard!  Oh, I’m going to Floo the Department of Magical Creatures to get them to remove it.”  Mrs. Weasley went to run back into the house, terrified that her children were about to get eaten by a fierce-some dragon.  Fred and George, however, stood in her way.

            “Boys, let me through.  We have to get his dragon out of here!  It’s too dangerous.  You should all come inside while we wait for the Ministry to come and get it!”

            “No, Mum!” said Fred.  “Kaida is a sweetheart.  Charlie came to Hogwarts this past Easter to help make sure she was house-trained and everything.  Harry bonded to her, and she is as gentle as Errol.”

            George added, “Come on and meet her.  You won’t be disappointed.  Besides, with Kaida around, you won’t ever have to worry about our safety.  She’s really protective of all of Harry’s friends.”

            Mrs. Weasley looked at her boys skeptically, and decided that Fred and George were not the best at determining what was safe.  She stepped around them, and made it two steps into the house before she was picked up.  There was a twin on each side, and they carried her towards the dragon.

            Upon noticing Mrs. Weasley, and having Harry whisper a few reassuring words to her, Kaida shrunk even smaller, so that she could wrap herself around Harry’s shoulders.  She nuzzled up against her boy, trilling softly in happiness.  She had flown a long way to be reunited with Harry, and she was happy to be near him again.

            Fred let go of his mother, and greeted the little dragon happily.  George made sure that Mrs. Weasley stayed put, and held his hand out for Kaida to jump on.  The dragon wound her way up the twin’s arm, causing him to giggle.  On George’s shoulder, Kaida stopped and approached Mrs. Weasley carefully, so as not to startle the woman.  She chirped at the woman.

            “Kaida says hello,” Harry said to Mrs. Weasley.  The dragon made a few more noises, and Harry blushed a little bit.  “She also wants to thank you for making sure that I ate well this morning.  Kaida is extremely protective of me.  She’s worse than Severus and Kreacher combined,” he said as he let out a chuckle.

            Mrs. Weasley hesitantly held out her hand towards the dragon.  Kaida shrunk a little more, so she was about as big as a garden lizard.  She brushed her little head against the matriarch’s finger, trilling softly.

            “Oh, she is lovely,” Mrs. Weasley murmured.  She ran her fingers down the scales, delighting in the smooth feel.  “It’s wonderful to meet you, Kaida.”

            The dragon trilled happily and ran up Mrs. Weasley’s arm, and curled up against her neck.  Mrs. Weasley let out a little giggle, before turning to her boys.  “Thank you for introducing me to her.  She is truly delightful.”

            Harry, who had been watching these interactions with great trepidation, smiled brightly.  “Kaida is about as scary as a house cat.  And she’s far more intelligent, too.”

            “I can see that,” said Mrs. Weasley.  “Now, she probably flew all the way from London, which means she must be famished.  Harry, what does Kaida like to eat?”

            Kaida poked her head up and flew over to Harry.  She chirped something in his ear, and Harry hissed back at her before looking at Mrs. Weasley.  “She says that she’s not too picky.  She ate a few crows on the way over, but wouldn’t say no to a few sausages.”

            “Well, Kaida, you’re in luck.  I cooked some sausages this morning.  If everyone will follow me inside, we’ll get this dragon fed.”

            The group trooped inside, with Kaida flying circles around the boys.  Fred and George found a little ball, and tossed it around for the dragon to play with, and she chased after it happily.  Nothing could bring down her mood, now that she was reunited with her human.  In the kitchen, Mrs. Weasley set out a plate of sausages, and Kaida abandoned the ball for the food, digging in eagerly.

            Ron tapped Harry’s arm, and pulled him along into the sitting room.  To Harry’s surprise, Sirius was standing in the middle of the room.  His godfather turned to him, and began to speak quickly before remembering that Harry couldn’t hear a word he was saying.  **I’m so sorry, Harry.  When I went to let Kaida out this morning, she was nowhere to be found.  Remus and I have looked everywhere for her, and we couldn’t find her.**

            “Relax, Sirius.  She’s here.  She flew here this morning, so she could be close to me.  I think the distance was a little difficult on her,” said Harry.  “She’s in the kitchen right now.”

            Sirius let out a sigh of relief, slumping over a little bit.  He had been quite worried that Harry would be angry that his dragon was lost.  He should have known better, however, since Harry didn’t even hold a grudge against the Dursleys.  **Oh, before I forget, you were asleep when we took you through the Floo last night, and didn’t bring any of your things.  Here’s a duffle bag with all of your clothes, books, and other things that you would need while staying here.  Remus is going to bring Fluffy tonight.**

            Harry beamed at his godfather before giving him a great big hug.  “If I didn’t know any better, Padfoot, I would say that you and Moony were worried about me.  You know that nothing will happen to me here at the Weasleys.  They’ll take good care of me.  You and Remus should spend the next couple of weeks relaxing.”

            Sirius just chuckled, and ruffled his godson’s hair.  **You have fun, okay.  Don’t spend too much time reading and make sure to stay outside as much as possible.**

            “You’re turning into Severus with all your worrying,” Harry laughed.  Sirius pouted at that, and went back through the Floo, leaving Harry’s belongings behind.  He was delighted to realize that his godfathers had included his Nimbus 2000.  After having played on the Weasleys’ Cleansweeps, he appreciated his own broom, that much more.

            The rest of the day was spent playing with Kaida and swimming in the pond behind the Burrow.  To Harry, this was the best summer vacation he had ever had.  He had always imagined going swimming or running around in a meadow during the summer, before taking naps in the shade of an apple tree.  To him, this was heaven.

            That night, however, was not a dream come true.  He was down in the belly of Hogwarts again, facing Quirrell.  This time, however, Neville was down there with him, all tied up and bleeding from several cuts.  Harry called out to Neville, but the boy didn’t respond, his face paler than normal.  He approached Neville, but was thrown backwards by some invisible force.  Quirrell’s turban came undone on its own accord, tying itself around Harry’s feet, so he couldn’t escape.  The face of his teacher loomed over him, red and blistering.  The intense pain built up in his forehead.  He knew that he was about to die, and that Neville was also dying.  He needed to do something, but there was nothing he could do.  Voldemort had him pinned to the ground.

            Harry watched as Quirrell took out his wand and pointed it at his head.  A green light flashed, and Harry heard a woman’s voice screaming loudly.  The dream changed, and he saw himself standing over the broken body of Quirrell, laughing as he watched the life leave his professor’s eyes.

            Harry sat up abruptly in bed, shaking all over.  Tears were running down his face, and he was breathing heavily.  His heart was pounding so hard, he was afraid that it would break through his chest.  Harry took out his wand and cast a Silencing Charm around his bed, and began to sob.  This had been a recurring nightmare of his since June, and it wasn’t getting any better.  Sometimes, instead of Neville, it would be Ron or Hermione or Draco or any of his other friends.

            Feeling acid rise up in his throat, Harry ran out of the room he shared with Ron, and down two flights of stairs before reaching the bathroom.  He threw up, emptying the contents of his stomach, sobbing wretchedly against the toilet once he was done.

            Knowing that he wasn’t going to get any more sleep that night, Harry crept back up the stairs to his room, and grabbed the book he had gotten on bonds.  He figured he could learn more about soul bonds as well as the bond he shared with Kaida, since he couldn’t sleep.  He crept back down the stairs, hoping that none of the steps creaked when he put his weight on it.  Once he was down all five flights of stairs, Harry turned into the sitting room, and turned on the reading lamp.

            Harry looked at the cover, tracing the title.  _Magical Bonding_ by Courtney Hopkirk, it read.  He opened up to the chapter index, looking over the various types of bonds.  Soul bonds weren’t talked about until chapter three, so he decided to just start from the very beginning of the book.

            He was startled out of his musing by the twins popping into his line of sight.  “What are you doing up, Harry?” Fred asked.

            Shaking his head, Harry tried to subtly dry his still-wet cheeks.  The twins, of course, noticed immediately, and took a seat on either side of their little friend.  Harry looked at both of them, before mumbling, “I just couldn’t sleep.  I figured, rather than stay up, tossing and turning, I would get some reading done.”

            George tapped Harry’s knee to get his attention.  “Do you wanna talk about why you couldn’t sleep?”

            Harry shook his head before a thought hit him.  “What are you guys doing up?”

            Fred spoke up after George indicated that he was going to talk.  “We heard someone sneaking past our door and decided to come take a look.  When Ginny has nightmares, she usually comes down here, and we usually come comfort her.”

            “Well, I guess I did have a nightmare, but I get nightmares almost every night.  It’s nothing new.”

            Throwing his arm around Harry, Fred looked at the boy seriously.  “It’s okay to get nightmares, Harry.  No one will think differently of you.  George and I sometimes get nightmares, especially after Mum and Dad tell us about the War against You-Know-Who.  There were so many people that died, and I know that I have a recurring nightmare of losing George to a war.”

            Harry sat silently for a few minutes, relishing the comfort of Fred’s arm around his shoulders.  It was so rare in his life for Harry to experience any kind of brotherly concern, that he leaned into the warmth the twin offered.  He remembered how the twins had been able to help him at the end of the school year.  Making a decision, Harry began to speak, “I dreamt that I was back with Quirrell.  This time, though, he had actually kidnapped Neville, and I couldn’t save him.  He looked so pale and lifeless.  And then, I couldn’t move, and the turban covering Voldemort was tying me to the ground.  Quirrell pointed his wand at me and I saw a green flash of light.  I could have sworn I also heard a woman scream, but I have no idea how.  The dream shifted after that, and I was standing above Quirrell’s lifeless body, with my wand pointed at him, and then I woke up.

            “I’ve had variations of that dream ever since school ended, always ending with me standing over him, like I just killed him,” Harry said in a broken voice.  Tears flowed freely down his face, and he was a little surprised when a freckled hand pushed a white handkerchief into his hand.

            After a few minutes, Harry felt calm enough to lift his head and look at the twins next to him.  During the time that he was crying, George had made a cup of tea, and was holding it out to Harry.  “Mum always says that a cup of tea helps soothe any sorrows.”

            Harry smiled at George, murmuring a soft “Thank you,” before taking a deep sip.  Fred touched the boy’s knee, and Harry looked at him.

            “It’s like we told you before.  What happened down there was not your fault.  You went to save Neville, and ended up having to fight for your life.  You were a hero, and I can tell you that any Gryffindor with any kind of honor, considers you a hero.  I overheard Oliver Wood lamenting that you weren’t in Gryffindor.  Though, I think he just wants you on our Quidditch team,” Fred said with a smile.

            “In my mind, I know that, but in my dreams, I guess I still see myself as a murderer,” whispered Harry.

            George turned Harry’s head towards him.  “I don’t think there will ever be a day that anyone will consider you a murderer.  After you got Fluffy, I read about Cerberuses and I found out that they are only loyal to those that are pure in heart.  Fluffy would not be anywhere near you if she considered you a murderer, and animals are a lot more perceptive and smarter than us humans.  If your pets still like you, then you’re doing something right.”

            Harry smiled at the thought of his dog.  Remus had brought her earlier that evening, and she was currently asleep in his room at the top of the house.  She was as loyal as any dog in the world, and was just as smart as any person.  “Yeah, you’re right,” he said.

            The twins smiled at him.  Fred grabbed the book that was sitting, forgotten, on Harry’s lap.  “What are you reading?”

            “I heard about soul bonds, and wanted to find out more about them, so I got a book on Magical Bonding at Flourish and Blotts.  I haven’t read any of it, though,” Harry said.

            “Well, you’ve come to the right place, if you want to know about soul bonds,” said Fred.  Since Harry was looking more cheerful, he sat on the ground in front of Harry, figuring that it would be easier to communicate with him.  George joined him.

            “You know about soul bonds?” Harry asks.

            “Every person in the Weasley line has had a soul bond for centuries.  Mum and Dad told us about soul bonds when we turned ten, that way, we’d know all about them before we went to Hogwarts,” said George.

            “Well, what are they?”

            Fred and George were quiet for a moment, thinking about how best to answer Harry’s question.  It wasn’t something they had ever had to explain to someone, and they weren’t sure where to start.  Eventually, Fred spoke up, “Have you ever heard of a soulmate?”  
            Harry nodded.

            “Well, a soul bond basically happens when you find your soulmate.  Of course, you have to kiss to actually bond to them, and you don’t always know when you meet them,” said George.

            Fred added, “Mum’s always told us to be careful of who we kiss, because when you bond, you become married to your soulmate.  She and Dad were bonded when they were seventeen, and Grandma Prewett nearly had a fit because Mum got married without her there to plan anything.  They had a ceremony later, but Mum’s been adamant that none of us kiss anyone until we’re old enough to get married.”

            Harry thought about his own soul bond.  “So, let me get this straight.  If I accidentally kiss my soulmate, we are bonded, and are considered married?”

            Both twins nodded.  Then, George added, “Once you’re bonded, you and your soulmate can’t be separated for very long or it causes physical pain.  Soulmates have been known to die from the pain, if they’re separated long enough.  I guess that’s where the idea of dying of a broken heart came from.”

            Fred added, “Mum told us that it’s worse for newly bonded couples.  Over time, it gets better, as long as they see each other at least once a week.  When she and Dad were first bonded, they had to be touching, nearly constantly.  They were always holding hands or had their arms around each other, otherwise they would get awful headaches.”

            “That sounds rather awful,” said Harry as he winced.  He had enough headaches from lack of sleep and dehydration in his lifetime, he didn’t want even more.  “I think I would prefer to never find my soulmate.”

            Fred and George chuckled.  They had expressed the exact same sentiment to their mother, which had resulted in the scolding of their lives.  However, they had learned from watching their parents, that soul bonds were a lovely thing, that assured the greatest chance of happiness for the rest of their lives.  Fred was the one to answer Harry’s concerns.  “We used to think the same way.  But we realized that having a soulmate is one of the best things to happen to someone.  They are like a permanent support group in your life, regardless of what happens.  They will always be there to help you, and love you, and be your friend.”

            “That doesn’t sound so bad,” Harry mused.  He knew that he would love to have someone that he could always love, and would always be there for him.

            It wasn’t long before Harry felt himself drifting off to sleep, feeling safe and comfortable with the twins watching over him.  He didn’t wake up until the next morning when Fluffy stuck one of her heads in his face.

            He opened his eyes slowly, blinking the sleep away.  Harry got up and tossed the blanket that had been placed over him, to the side.  He wandered into the kitchen and was surprised to see his Aunt Minnie sitting at the table with Mrs. Weasley.

            “Aunt Minnie!  What are you doing here?” he asked as he gave her a hug.

            **I’m here to deliver your Hogwarts letter.  And besides, I wanted to see how you were doing.  I didn’t really get to talk to you one on one at your party.**

“Well, I’m always glad to see you, Aunt Minnie.  I’ve been doing well.  Sirius and Remus, both, came to check up on me yesterday.  I think they get nervous when they can’t see me,” Harry said with a giggle.

            **I think we all do.  The last time we left you unsupervised, the Dursleys tried to take you back to their place, and you had to walk over a mile to the Leaky Cauldron in the dark.  But that’s not the point of this visit.  I wanted to give you this, as well.**   Minerva pulled a package out of her cloak and handed it to her child.

            Harry tore open the paper eagerly, trying to guess what she could have given him.  Inside the package was a sort of device.  He picked it up and looked it over.  On one side was a small mirror, and on the other was a button.  He looked at Minerva quizzically.

            **It’s a device that lets us contact you if you’re in trouble.  Sirius gave me his two-way mirror that he and your father used to use for talking to each other during detention.  Severus and I were able to incorporate the magic into this device.  You push the button, and any one of your guardians can contact you through the mirror portion.  That way, if you ever find yourself in a situation like this past June, we’ll be able to help you out.**

Harry’s eyes watered at the thoughtfulness of the gift.  He had been worried, especially since he knew that Voldemort was still out there, trying to come back.  Now that he had a way to call for help, he wasn’t nearly as worried as he had been.  He gave Minerva a great big hug, burying his head into her robes.

            When he pulled away, he decided that he would ask Hermione to help him look for a charm that would prevent him ever losing the device.  A charm that would make it so it would always return to his pocket, regardless of what he was wearing.

            “Thank you, Aunt Minnie.  This is brilliant,” he said.

            **I hope that you keep it on you.  I will see you at Hogwarts.  For now, I have a few errands to run.  I need to go deliver some letters to a few first-year muggleborns and get some things from Diagon Alley.**   To Mrs. Weasley, she said, “Molly, it was a pleasure to see you.  And thank you so much for the tea.”

            “Oh, it was my pleasure, Minerva.  Feel free to stop by whenever you like.  You’re always welcome in our home,” she said.

            Minerva McGonagall stepped through the Floo and disappeared in a puff of green fire.  Harry looked back down at the device in his hands, deciding that he would call it a communicator, since he didn’t want to refer to it as “the device” for the rest of his life.  Harry turned back to see Mrs. Weasley piling food onto platters.

            “Harry, dear, why don’t you go wake everyone up.  It’s time for breakfast, and this way, you’ll all get to open your letters together,” she said.

            Percy was already up, as was Ginny and Mr. Weasley.  They eagerly headed down for the delicious breakfast that Mrs. Weasley always cooked for them.  The twins were a little bit more difficult to wake up, especially since they had spent part of their night talking to Harry.  Soon, though, they were on their way down the stairs.  Harry trudged up the rest of the stairs to Ron’s room, at the very top of the house.  It took him a good ten minutes to even get the boy to stir and another five minutes to get him on his feet and moving.

            Finally, they were all downstairs in the kitchen, digging into their food.  Mrs. Weasley passed around their Hogwarts letters, and Harry opened his eagerly.  There was the usual welcoming message on the first page, written by Minerva.  But it was the second page that Harry was interested in.  It contained his new booklist.  There were several by the same author, and he couldn’t imagine the kind of person that would require that many books.  He read through the list.

SECOND-YEAR STUDENTS WILL REQUIRE:

_The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 2_

by Miranda Goshawk

_Break with a Banshee_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Gadding with Ghouls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Holidays with Hags_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Travels with Trolls_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Voyages with Vampires_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Wanderings with Werewolves_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Year with the Yeti_ by Gilderoy Lockhart

_Common Potions for Students_ by Hector Dagworth-Granger

 

            Fred peered over Harry’s shoulder and he glanced at the twin.  “You’ve got all of Lockhart’s books, too!” he exclaimed.

            George, from the other side of Fred, said, “This lot won’t come cheap, Mum.  I’m not sure how we’ll be able to afford it all.”

            Mrs. Weasley had a worried expression on her face.  “We’ll have to get a lot of Ginny’s things second-hand this year, but I think we’ll manage.”

            An idea struck Harry.  “Why don’t we share copies of books.  I’m sure I could share with Ron, and Fred and George could share with each other.  That way, you won’t have to buy as many books, and Ginny could get some of her things brand-new.”

            “That’s a wonderful idea, Harry,” Mrs. Weasley beamed.

            Percy jumped up from his seat suddenly, and knelt underneath the table.  He pulled out a molting, grey feather duster, that seemed to be breathing.  It took Harry a minute to realize that he was actually looking at the Weasley family owl.

            Ron jumped up and took the owl from his older brother.  “It’s Errol.  He’s got a letter from Hermione.  I’ve been waiting to hear from her for ages.  I told her we should meet up at Diagon Alley, so we could all go shopping for school together.”  Ron took Errol to his perch just inside the back door, but the poor bird was too exhausted to be able to stand on it, and he flopped back off.  He nudged the owl with his foot, but Errol simply shuffled away before falling asleep on the ground.

            The youngest Weasley boy tore open the letter eagerly.  “Hermione says that she’s been doing well, and that she’s going shopping this Wednesday.”  He looked up from the letter to his mother.  “Can we go on Wednesday?” he asked.

            Harry looked over at the Weasley matriarch, and noticed that the twins were listening for her answer just as intently as he was watching her.  “I suppose that that would be a good time for us to go.  Arthur won’t be able to go with us, but I’m sure Sirius or Remus will be willing to accompany us all.  Why don’t you write back to Hermione and tell her that we’ll meet her in front of the bank at ten o’ clock.”

            After breakfast, Ron, Harry, and the twins grabbed their brooms and walked out to the meadow.  Percy refused to join them, preferring to lock himself in his room.  Harry had barely seen him during his stay with the Weasleys, since he was always in his room; he only came down for mealtimes.

            “Wish I knew what he was up to,” said Fred, frowning.  “He’s not himself.  His exam results came the day before you came here, Harry; twelve O.W.L.s and he hardly gloated.”

            Harry tried to figure out what owls had to do with exams when George decided he’d better explain it to the twelve-year-old.  “Ordinary Wizarding Levels.  O. W. L.s.  Bill got twelve, too.  If we’re not careful, we’ll have another Head Boy in the family.  I don’t think I could stand the shame.”

            Harry laughed at the serious expression on George’s face.  They really delighted in breaking the rules, and making sure they caused as much mayhem and chaos as possible.

            Bill, Harry was told, was the oldest Weasley, and worked in Egypt.  Evidently, Gringotts employed curse-breakers to scour the old tombs.  Fred and George loved to talk about the cool things that Bill had discovered, especially the different curses he had encountered.  Charlie was the second oldest, and Harry had already met him that year.

            While Harry was thinking about Charlie and Bill, George was speaking softly to Fred.  “I don’t know how Mum and Dad are going to afford all our school stuff this year.  Five sets of Lockhart books!  It’s a good thing that Harry came up with the idea of sharing sets.  Still though, Ginny needs robes and a wand and everything else. . . “

            Harry caught the tail end of George’s words, and wondered if the Weasleys would let him buy some of Ginny’s things for her.  He felt bad that he had all of the money of the Peverells, the Potters, and Slytherin at his disposal.  He wanted to help them, if they would let him.  Harry decided that he would at least buy Ginny’s books for her, if nothing else.


	5. Chapter 5

            Mrs. Weasley woke them all up, that Wednesday morning, bright and early.  After bacon sandwiches for breakfast (Harry could only manage one, while the rest of the Weasleys ate six each), they all pulled on their cloaks, and lined up next to the fireplace in the sitting room.  Mrs. Weasley grabbed a flower pot from off of the windowsill in the kitchen and brought it over.

            “It looks like we’re getting a bit low,” she said as she peered into the pot.  “We’ll have to buy more when we’re in Diagon Alley.”  She turned to her children, and offered Harry the pot.  “Guests first, dear.  Remember, Sirius is going to meet us in the Leaky Cauldron.  We’ll follow right behind you.”

            Harry grabbed a pinch of the glittering Floo powder and stepped into the fire with Fluffy right next to him.  Kaida was snuggled up in his pocket, since she refused to be left behind.  He shouted out very clearly, “Diagon Alley,” and disappeared in a whoosh of green flames.

            Though Harry had traveled by Floo several times, it was still an uncomfortable feeling.  It felt like he was being sucked down a giant drain while spinning very fast.  He tried to keep his eyes open, but the whirl of green flames made him feel sick.  Through squinting eyes, Harry saw grates stream past, and he tightened his grip on Fluffy’s leash, not wanting to lose his dog to a different location.

            He finally fell face-first on the rug in the Leaky Cauldron.  Fluffy nudged him with two of her heads, concerned that he was injured.  Hands pulled him upright, and Harry looked up into the smiling face of his godfather.  “Hey, pup.  Don’t you know that you’re not supposed to fall over?”

            Harry giggled and gave his godfather a great big hug.  It had been three days since they had last seen each other, and Harry wanted to tell him all about soul bonds, and everything else that had happened since they last talked.  However, they had a shopping trip to do, and they needed to meet Hermione on the steps of the bank soon.

            “Sirius, before any of the other Weasleys come through, I want to help them pay for their school things.  I’ve got more money than I could ever use, and the books this year, are extremely expensive.”

            “I think that’s a great idea, pup.  We can get the goblins to transfer some gold into their account, that way they won’t know it was us,” Sirius said.  “I’ll go now, so they have the money immediately.”

            Harry nodded, and Sirius disappeared into the crowd.  He turned just in time to step out of the way of Fred tumbling through the fireplace.  He jumped up with a great big smile on his face, and dusted off the soot on his clothes.  George followed just seconds after, and he looked around the Leaky Cauldron.

            “Where’s Sirius?” he asked.

            “Sirius said he had a few errands to run that he wanted to keep a secret from me.  He said he would find us as soon as he was done,” Harry lied easily.  He liked being able to do something nice for the Weasleys, and it made lying to them that much easier.

            One by one, the rest of the Weasleys popped through the grate, with Mrs. Weasley coming last, holding Ginny’s hand.  Mrs. Weasley repeated George’s question, and Harry told the lie that he had told the twins.  They accepted it without question.

            They walked into the alley behind the Leaky Cauldron and entered Diagon Alley.  It was just as colorful as ever, and Harry smiled brightly at the world around him.  It was just over a year since he was introduced into the wizarding world that he was born into, and he couldn’t get over how wonderful it was.  All around him were wizards and witches from all different backgrounds.  Occasionally he could see muggles that had to be parents of a Hogwarts student.  He saw a group of witches strolling towards the entrance to Diagon Alley, carrying several large bags as they gossiped and laughed.  A warlock entered the Apothecary, followed by a young man that had to be his apprentice.

            Harry waved to Seamus and Dean over by the Quidditch Supplies Shop, and they waved happily back at him.  Neville was up ahead, looking at plants in a window.  Harry and Ron darted forwards and greeted their friend eagerly, before being ushered on by Mrs. Weasley.  The group rounded a bend, and the tall, white building came into view.

            Hermione was sitting at the top of the steps of Gringotts, looking for the group of red hair, bobbing towards her.  She had stopped and chatted with Sirius when he went into the bank, though he was acting quite suspicious.  Figuring that he was probably working on a surprise for Harry, she went back to people-watching.  It wasn’t long after that she saw the mass of ginger headed her way.  Hermione bounced down the steps, ready to meet her friends, and promptly got swallowed up by the crowds.

            “Miss Hermione Granger, it has been far too long, my love,” said a familiar voice in her ear.  Arms were looped through hers, and she found herself being dragged through the crowd by the tall Weasley twins.  George looked at her.  “How are you doing, Granger?”

            “I’m quite alright, thank you, George.  How has your summer been?  Not too eventful, I hope,” she responded.

            George, with a great flourish, took her hand and placed a rather large, wet kiss on it.  “Alas, fair lady, my holiday has been dismal without your presence.  I have been eagerly counting down the days until I saw you again, and I rejoice to be in your presence once again.”

            Hermione giggled and shoved George’s face away before giving him a hug.  “It is good to see you, Hermione,” he whispered into her hair.  “And I think your other suitor is getting a bit jealous.”

            Breaking away from George, and looking towards the other twin, she immediately saw that Fred was not overcome with jealousy of any kind.  In fact, he was wiggling his eyebrows at the two of them rather suggestively.

            After throwing a wink her way, he dramatically placed his hand on his forehead, pretending to faint into Hermione’s arms, his back to her chest.  “Ah, fair princess, a lowly court jester is humbled to make your acquaintance.  He cannot hope to compete with the likes of Sir George or Prince Draco.”  He swooned, and dropped all of his weight on Hermione.

            “Fred, you great oaf!  Get off me!” she gasped out, while trying to keep the twin from squishing her.  Instead of standing up straight, Fred just flopped down further, and Hermione was immediately flattened to the ground.  “Just you wait, Fred Weasley!  There will be payback!”

            Fred grinned up at her from where his head lay on her chest.  “Missed me, have you, Granger?”

            “Shut up!” she said with a chuckle before wriggling out from under Fred.  “Come on, I want to go say hello to the rest of your family.  Especially Harry.”

            George’s face grew serious, a look that few people ever saw.  “We’re rather worried about him, Mione.  He’s not been sleeping.  He goes down to the sitting room nearly every night, usually crying from a nightmare.  I think he’s been losing weight, too, despite Mum’s best attempts at fattening him up.  Me and Fred try to comfort him, if we hear him go past our room.  But he tries really hard to not wake anyone up.”

            “What can I do to help?” Hermione asked.  She had been frantic with worry about Harry at the start of the term.  No one had heard from him, and no one had seen Sirius or Remus on the platform.  When Blaise had sent a letter to her, letting her know that Harry was alright, but wasn’t receiving any mail, she was extremely relieved.  Knowing the sort of muggles the Dursleys were, made Hermione frightened for her friend’s life.  She didn’t know what she would do if Harry didn’t go back to Hogwarts.

            Fred shook his head.  “I don’t think there’s anything we can do.  I guess we could tell Madame Pomfrey or Professor Snape, since they could give him a Dreamless Sleep potion, but that might make it worse in the long run.  Unless Harry let’s us help him, I doubt there’s anything we can do about the nightmares.  I guess you could make sure he’s eating regularly while we’re at school.  Mum’s been trying, but he can barely eat more than toast and eggs for breakfast.”

            Hermione nodded, her mind whirling with ideas on how to help her friend through his troubles.  Her thoughts, however, were interrupted by a collision.  For the second time that day, Hermione found herself flat on the ground, only this time, she was being hugged by Harry.

            “Mione!  It’s wonderful to see you!  I was afraid that we had gotten the time wrong or something, and that we wouldn’t be able to see you today.  We saw Neville earlier, as well as Seamus and Dean from Gryffindor.  I think I saw Susan Bones by Flourish and Blotts, too.  Oh, I can’t wait until we go get our new schoolbooks.”

            Hermione sat up and pushed Harry away a little bit.   **If you want to talk to me, you should probably make sure you can see me,** she teased him.  Harry blushed a little before standing up and offering his hand to Hermione.  She accepted, and he pulled her upright.  Hermione gave Harry a proper hug, rather than the tackle she had received just minutes before.  With concern, she noticed that George was right.  Harry had seemed to lose a little weight.  He was now back to how small he was when they all started Hogwarts last year.

            Mrs. Weasley spoke up.  “Hermione, dear, it’s wonderful to see you.  Now, we should all go into Gringotts if we’re to pay for school supplies.”

            Harry trotted after her cheerfully, though Hermione noticed the little mischievous glint in his eye.  _I wonder what he’s up to_ , she thought to herself before giving Ron a hug.  “It’s great to see you, Ron.  Although, I do believe you’ve gotten taller, somehow.”

            “I grew three centimeters this summer, and Mum thinks that by next summer, I will probably grow twenty.”

            Hermione shook her head with fondness.  She felt like she was a dwarf living among giants with how tall the twins and Ron were.  In a way, she was grateful that Harry wasn’t taller than her, so she could have someone share in her shortness.  She turned to the remaining Weasleys that she hadn’t greeted properly yet.  “Hello, Percy.  How has your summer been?”

            “It’s been busy, though it’s hard to concentrate with this lot around,” he said stiffly.  Hermione stifled a giggle.  There had been several times last year, that George and Fred had interrupted her studies, just to get on her nerves.

            “That I can believe.  And you must be Ginny.  Your brothers have told me all about you,” Hermione said to the only girl in the Weasley family.  They hadn’t had a chance to be properly introduced at the birthday party, and Hermione was eager to speak with her.

            Ginny smiled brightly at the girl that the twins and Ron had talked so much about.  “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you.  Fred and George told me all about how you enchanted the Twister game for Harry.  That was brilliant magic.”

            “Thank you.  You’re starting this year, right?”  Hermione and Ginny followed the rest of the Weasleys up to the bank doors, chatting about the Hogwarts Houses and promising each other that they would be friends regardless of where Ginny ended up.  They stopped talking when Mrs. Weasley, who had been waiting impatiently for them, bustled her children off to collect the money for their school supplies.

            Hermione skipped over to where her parents were exchanging their muggle money for the wizarding Galleons, Sickles, and Knuts.  Mr. Henry Granger was especially interested in how the money system worked in the wizarding world, going so far as to nearly interrogate the poor goblin that was helping them.

            “Hey Mum, Dad.  Did you get everything settled?” she asked to get her father’s attention off of the frustrated goblin.

            “Yes, we sure did.  Are you ready to get all of your school things?” he asked her while holding onto the heavy leather sack.

            “Almost.  Harry and the Weasleys went to withdraw their money, but they should be back soon, and then we can head out.  Oh, I can’t wait for you to meet Harry and everyone else.  They’re so wonderful,” said Hermione.

            Mrs. Granger laughed and tugged on one of Hermione’s brown curls.  “You forget that we were at your friends’ birthday party.  We’ve already met everyone.  But it will be nice to see them again.”

 

* * *

 

            Harry, however, wasn’t thinking that anything was wonderful.  He was squished between Fred and Ron with their boney elbows digging into his ribs.  On top of the bruises he was sure were forming, the cart they were all crammed into was hurtling down the track and intense speeds, causing Harry to feel slightly nauseated.  When they stopped at the Weasley vault, he was pleased to see that they had several stacks of Galleons in their vault, along with piles of Sickles, and bags of Knuts.

            Mrs. Weasley stared at the piles in shock.  “I don’t think this is the right vault,” she told the goblin nervously.

            As it happened, Griphook was the one that had guided them there, and he knew very well where the money had come from.  He responded to Mrs. Weasley kindly.  **“This is indeed the Weasley vault.  There was a donor that wished to make an anonymous deposit to your vault.  They said that you had helped them in the past, and they wanted to return the favor.”**

            The rest of the Weasleys looked at the money in awe.  George piped up, “Wow, mum, we can afford to get Ginny new things this year.”

            Mrs. Weasley started to cry, and for a second, Harry thought that maybe he had done something dreadfully wrong, and had offended Mrs. Weasley.  But then, she began to laugh through her tears.  “I think we won’t have to worry about money for a little while now.”  She scooped several Galleons and Sickles into a leather bag, before grabbing one of the sacks of Knuts.

            **“If you will please get back into the cart, we will be off to the Potter vault,”** Griphook said.  He threw a subtle wink in Harry’s direction, knowing that the boy was quite pleased in himself.

            Harry wasn’t quite as embarrassed when they came to his vault as he would have been if he had seen how much money the Weasleys had had prior to his donation.  He happily filled his bag, and they went off back to the main area of Gringotts.

            Harry skipped over to where Hermione was waiting, giving her a great big hug before turning to her parents.  “Hi, Mr. and Mrs. Granger.  It’s nice to see you again!” he chirped.

            Mrs. Granger began to sign, causing Harry to light up.  **It’s wonderful to see you, too, Harry.  Hermione has told us all about you.**

**You know sign language?**

**Yes.  Hermione and I learned together when we found out one of her friends in primary school was deaf.**

            Harry grinned brightly at Mrs. Granger.  “It’s thanks to you, then, that Hermione is so wonderful at signing.  She’s taught most of our friends BSL and she has helped me improve.  She could probably teach the new BSL class being offered at Hogwarts.”

            Mrs. Granger let out a chuckle.  “I wish I could take credit, but it was more like she taught me as she learned.  I don’t think I’ve ever met a child as bright as our Hermione.”

            Hermione’s cheeks glowed red, and she playfully hit her mother’s arm.  “Mom, you’re embarrassing me,” she groaned out.

            The twins chose that moment to come over.  “What’s this I hear, Georgie?”

            “I do believe people are praising our princess, Freddie!”

            “We should join in . . . “

            “Absolutely!  Her Highness is bright. . . “

            “Intelligent. . . “

            “A brilliant prankster. . . “

            “And quite stunningly beautiful,” Fred added with a wink.

            “You’re both ridiculous,” Hermione huffed.  Harry giggled at his friends’ antics and took Hermione’s hand.

            “Come on, Mione.  We need to go shopping, remember?”

            Mrs. Weasley decided that this would be the best time to cut in, and herded her children out of Gringotts and into the warm sunshine outside.  “I think it would be best if we split up.  I’ve got a few Sickles for each of you to spend as you wish, but don’t waste them.”

            “Oh, Mum, there’s Lee over there.  Fred and I are going to go see if he’s brought his tarantula along,” said Fred.  Hermione shook her head at the two of them, knowing that they were pulling a subtle prank on their mother.  (So far, the only people that were able to tell the twins apart, were Harry, Hermione, and Angelina.  No one was quite sure why.)  The twins bounded off, not bothering to let their mother tell them otherwise.

            Percy mumbled about needing a new quill and wandered off after receiving the money from Mrs. Weasley, and the matriarch herself, took Ginny to Madame Malkins to get her robes for the upcoming school year.  She called to her family’s retreating backs, “We’ll meet at Flourish and Blotts in one hour to buy school books.  And not one step down Knockturn Alley!”

            Harry looked at Ron questioningly.  “Why can’t we go down Knockturn Alley?”

            “Knockturn Alley is similar to Diagon Alley, but they sell a lot of Dark Objects, and if you’re down there, people assume you’re up to no good.  It’s a bad and dangerous place to be,” Ron explained.  “The twins have been wanting to check it out for years, but Mum would skin them if she found out that they went there.”

            “Like that’s ever stopped them before,” Hermione muttered, causing Harry to giggle.  “Come on, let’s get some ice cream from Florean Fortescue’s before we head over to Flourish and Blotts.  I also need to stock up on ink and quills.”

            Harry, Ron, and Hermione wandered off to the ice cream parlor, with the two friends holding onto each of Harry’s hands.  They knew that he tended to get a little nervous in big crowds still, and they didn’t want him running off.  Mr. and Mrs. Granger walked a few paces behind, watching the three friends interact.

            “I’m so glad that Hermione has found people that accept her and love her,” Jean Granger said, fidgeting with the curls that her daughter had inherited.  “I was so worried that she wouldn’t find anyone to spend time with, and she would end up studying all alone the whole year.”

            “I don’t think we’ll ever have to worry about those three,” Henry Granger responded.  “I bet they’re going to be friends for life, regardless of what happens in the future with You-Know-Who.”

            “Do you think they’ll have to fight in the war against him?” asked Jean anxiously.  She had seen what war had done to her husband, since he had fought in the Royal Navy.  She never wanted those sweet children to have to fight for their lives, but she figured that it was going to be inevitable if what Sirius had told them was true.

            “Jean, do you really think that our Hermione would be willing to stand by and watch people suffering?  She’s the kind of person that will always take a stand.  And I’d be willing to bet that Harry and Ron are the same way.  Hermione told me that Slytherin House was known for its prejudices against the Weasleys and muggle-borns.  They’ve been changing the House for the better, and I don’t think they’ll stop until they establish world peace.”

            “You’re right.  Hermione does like to find ways to ensure that everyone is being treated equally.  I’m sure it won’t be long until she gets everyone to see things her way,” Jean said with a laugh.

            The group arrived at the ice cream parlor, and Harry insisted on treating them all to the ice cream of their choice.  He chose a strawberry and peanut butter cone, while Hermione chose a rich dark chocolate, and Ron decided on a Triple Caramel Fudge cone.  Mr. and Mrs. Granger declined any ice cream, scolding the children about proper teeth hygiene, which caused Ron a great deal of confusion.

            Jean watched with amusement as Harry snuck a spoonful of Hermione’s ice cream before she noticed and immediately moved her treat away from the boy, glowering fiercely.  Unfortunately, Harry’s service dog took the opportunity to lick the ice cream three times.

            “Fluffy!  You know that chocolate is bad for you,” Hermione scolded while Harry sniggered.  “Don’t give me the puppy eyes, they don’t work on me.  You should know better.”

            Henry Granger chuckled, before deciding that they had better start heading towards Flourish and Blotts.  They were nearing the hour mark, and Hermione still needed to get more parchment and ink from the Epistolary shop.  “Let’s get going, okay?  We don’t want to make Mrs. Weasley worry about you three.”

            Harry smiled at that, knowing all too well that Mrs. Weasley was going to worry anyway.  Realizing that there was no way that he was going to be able to finish his ice cream, the boy divided it into three equal parts for his dog to eat.

            **“Harry, why are you giving your dog three portions?”** Jean asked.

            “Oh, Fluffy is a Cerberus.  She’s got three heads, and if I only give one a taste, the other two will pout.  Aunt Minnie and Severus charmed Fluffy so that muggles think she looks like a normal dog, not a three-headed one.”

            “Well, that makes sense, I guess,” said Henry a bit faintly.  They had been wandering around with a three-headed dog, and had no idea.  It was a bit much for him to wrap his mind around.

            Once Fluffy had finished off the ice cream, the group walked down the twisting road, stopping briefly for Hermione to buy writing supplies and Harry to get some owl treats for Hedwig.  Fluffy got enough treats from the rest of his friends and family, as did Kaida, that he decided that it wasn’t worth it to buy dog treats.  Besides, the pet shop definitely didn’t carry anything for dragons.

            Flourish and Blotts came into view, and they all noticed a large crowd of people jostling outside the door, trying to get in.  “Wonder what’s going on there?” Harry mused quietly.  His question was answered when they all saw the large purple and gold banner stretched across the upper windows.

**GILDEROY LOCKHART**

**Will be signing copies of his autobiography**

**MAGICAL ME**

**Today 12:30 p.m. to 4:30 p.m.**

            Hermione was obviously very excited, going on about how they would be able to meet the author of the majority of their book list.  Her excitement was echoed throughout the crowd of mainly witches, shoving each other to try to get to the door.  They all seemed to be around Mrs. Weasley’s age, though there were quite a few Hogwarts-age witches as well.

            The group squeezed past a harassed looking wizard, that was trying desperately to keep the crowd under control, calling things like, “Please stop pushing” and “Mind the books now” and “Calmly, _please_ , ladies”.  Harry hid a grin before looking around for the rest of the Weasleys.

            Mrs. Weasley was further in the shop, obviously waiting in line to meet Mr. Lockhart.  She kept patting her hair, a faint blush blooming on her cheeks.  On the way towards her, the trio grabbed the _Standard Book of Spells: Grade 2_ , and snuck up the line winding through the shop.

            “Oh, there you are,” said Mrs. Weasley.  She looked rather breathless, and Harry was momentarily concerned for her.  However, her next words told Harry that she was just suffering from a case of starstruck.  “We’ll be able to see him in a minute. . . .”

            Gilderoy Lockhart came into view, seated at a table and surrounded by stacks of his autobiography and pictures of his own face, winking at the crowd of witches.  Each picture flashed dazzlingly bright smiles, and wore a different colored set of robes, most of them pastel-hued.  The real Lockhart was wearing forget-me-not blue robes, with his wizard cap set jauntily on his head.

            In front of the table, a short, ill-tempered man was dancing around, taking photos and emitting large puffs of purple smoke.  Harry accidentally breathed some of the smoke in, and immediately began coughing, his lungs feeling as though they were on fire.

            A few moments later, Harry felt his arm grabbed roughly, and he was dragged forward in front of the crowd.  Harry looked up into the shining white of Lockhart’s teeth, and realized that the man had caught sight of him.

            “Please, let go of me, sir,” Harry said, trying to hide his panic.

            Lockhart ignored the plea and instead threw his arm around the boy, while the photographer clicked away madly.  The flashes of light from the camera caused the poor boy to go blind, and he groped around, trying to reorient himself.

            The Weasleys saw and heard everything going on.  As soon as Lockhart had Harry in front of the crowd, he was saying, “Nice big smile, Harry.  Together, you and I are worth the front page.”

            Ron was seething, and Hermione was glaring at the man that she had been singing the praises of just moments before.  Before they could do anything to help their friend, however, Lockhart was waving for quiet.

            “Ladies and gentlemen!  What an extraordinary moment this is!  The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I’ve been sitting on for some time!

            “When young Harry stepped into Flourish and Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography—which I shall happily present to him now, free of charge—” the crowd applauded boisterously.  “He had no idea,” Lockhart continued, “that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me_.  He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the real magical me.  Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!”

            The crowd applauded as the photographer snapped more photographs, blinding Harry even further.  A large stack of books was thrust into his arms, knocking the wind out of him, and he stumbled away from the man that had suddenly released him.  Harry had no idea what was going on, nor where his friends were.  The books were extremely heavy, and he found himself tipping over backward before a pair of strong arms caught him.

            Sirius Black had joined the group just in time to see the whole thing with Gilderoy Lockhart, and he was fuming.  He helped Harry stand up, and passed the books along to the twins before turning to the man signing autographs.  Sirius shoved past several women before he was standing in front of the table.

            “How dare you,” he seethed.

            Lockhart looked up from the book he was signing.  “I beg your pardon?” he said, rather confused.

            “How dare you touch my godson!” Sirius shouted.  “I don’t care if Harry is famous, you do not touch him without permission!  The poor boy can’t even see right now from all of the pictures that were taken.  Now, he has no idea what’s going on!”

            Pasting on a smile, Lockhart decided to try to calm the man down.  “I’m terribly sorry, Mr.?”

            “Sirius Black.  And if I find out that you have laid a finger on Harry, I will see you in court!”

            The man’s smile faded, his face paling at the name.  Lockhart said in a shaky voice, “Now, now, no need for that.  It was just a few photographs.  He could hardly object to that.”

            “He would definitely object to any number of photographs.  If you had bothered to ask first, you would have found out that large crowds send Harry into panic attacks!  You would have also realized that he is deaf, and now blinded, which means that you have effectively cut off all communication with him.  If there is any permanent damage to his eyes, you will be paying for his medical treatments!” Sirius shouted, spittle flying from his lips.  He spun around and marched over to the Weasleys.  They followed him away from the signing table, and through the bookstore.

            They were nearly to the door when a boy with blonde hair crashed into Harry, accidentally sending Ginny’s cauldron full of books to the ground.  Draco Malfoy was embracing his friend tightly, knowing that Harry was a little panicked from the scene earlier.

            When he pulled away, Harry greeted Draco happily, his eyesight slowly returning to normal.  “Hiya Dray.  How have you been?”

            **“Incredibly bored,”** he answered.  He turned and gave Ron and Hermione hugs as well, before greeting the rest of the Weasleys cordially.  A cane landed on Draco’s shoulder, and Harry turned to see Mr. Lucius Malfoy standing behind his son in all his glory.

            “Well, well, well.  If it isn’t the Weasleys,” he sneered.  Harry shrunk back against Hermione, holding onto her hand for support.  Ron took his other hand, wanting to help Harry after the panic he had experienced earlier.

            “Where’s that father of yours?  Busy at the Ministry, I presume.  I do hope they’re paying him for all that overtime.”  Lucius grabbed a battered copy of _A Beginner’s Guide to Transfiguration_ from the pile of books that the twins were trying to clean up.  “Apparently not.  Dear me, what’s the use of being a disgrace to the name of wizard if they don’t even pay well for it?”

            The Weasleys all flushed a dark red, a clear indication of their anger for anyone that knew them.  Sirius stepped forward, hoping to stop a confrontation before it began.  “Lucius, always a pleasure to see your greasy face.  How’s life treating you?”

            “Sirius Black.  Fancy meeting you here.  I would have thought that you would do something to put you back in Azkaban.  I hear the dementors are missing one of their favorite prisoners,” Lucius said, obviously trying to bait Sirius into a fight.  His pale eyes glanced over at Mr. and Mrs. Granger, taking in their appearance.  “I would have thought that the Lord of the House of Black would seek better company than that of muggles.”

            “Just about anyone would be better company than you, Lucius,” Sirius said, sneering.  “Draco would definitely benefit from spending less time with you,” he added in a lowered voice.

            Harry watched the interaction with trepidation.  He knew that Sirius wouldn’t hesitate to throw punches and jinxes.  He decided to speak up before Sirius did something that might send him back to Azkaban.  “Mr. Malfoy, it’s a pleasure to finally meet you.  Your son is one of my best friends, and he is incredibly talented.  You should see how quickly he’s picked up Potions and Charms.”

            Lucius turned his cold gaze on Harry, who shivered unconsciously.  “Mr. Potter.  As pleased as I am that Draco is excelling at Potions and Charms, I believe he could do better.  Especially since a Mudblood is beating him in all of his classes.  I assure you, that Draco will not be spending nearly as much time consorting with Mudbloods and Blood-Traitors.”

            With a final withering glare, he swept out of the shop, Draco following slowly.  He glanced mournfully at his friends, and Hermione quickly signed a message of encouragement to him.  He straightened his back, determined to not let his father dictate who he spent time with, regardless of their blood status.  If the past year had taught him anything, it was that the notion that certain witches and wizards were less because they were from muggle families was extremely wrong.  There was a reason why he considered Hermione to be his best friend.

            Harry glanced around his friends and family, and decided right then that he would do everything in his power to keep them happy and safe.  No one should have to face such horrible opinions and behaviors, and he would do his best to help Draco find a new family in the group of friends they were collecting.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter had some major changes to it. I've decided to not have Ron as an elemental, and Harry doesn't have any control over ambient magic.

            The rest of the time that Harry spent at the Burrow was spent playing Quidditch and exploring the nearby woods.  Occasionally, Sirius and Remus would pop over for supper with the Weasleys, and Harry relished in having the group laughing and smiling together.

            All too soon, he was back at Grimmauld Place, getting ready to head back to Hogwarts for his second year.  Sirius and Remus had mixed feelings about that.  They knew that Harry needed to go back, but they had also enjoyed having the boy around them constantly.  And while they were hesitant to let Dumbledore anywhere near Harry, they were also pleased that Severus and Regulus and Minerva would all be there to keep him safe.

            The night before they were to leave for the Hogwarts Express, the two adults in Grimmauld Place sat in the sitting room, reminiscing about their own Hogwarts days.  They laughed together, but also cried, the sting of losing James and Lily always present.

            As the time got later, their thoughts turned towards the threat Harry had received.  “What do you suppose is going to happen?  I mean, Dobby warned Harry about something bad,” Sirius said.

            Remus sipped his glass of firewhiskey, before responding.  “I honestly have no idea, but it couldn’t possibly be worse than being targeted by a teacher possessed by Voldemort.  And if it is worse, then we can talk about transferring Harry to Beauxbatons or Ilvermorny.  But I think we should only do that as a worst-case scenario.  He’s dealt with enough bad in his life, he shouldn’t have to be separated from his friends.”

            “I know.  I’m just worried about him.  We promised to protect Harry, and last year, we failed.  I don’t want to be responsible for his death.  I think Lily would come back from the grave to kill us both, if Harry died an early death.”

            Remus chuckled a little, knowing that Sirius was probably right.  Beyond the veil, James was also laughing at his wife, who looked quite offended.  “Come on, Lils, you know that you would come back from the dead just to haunt them, and you would love it.”

            Lily glared at her husband for a moment before reluctantly agreeing that he was probably right.  “I can’t deny that I haven’t thought about it.  I definitely wouldn’t mind making life miserable for Petunia after what she did to Hari.”

            “You and me both, Lily.  You and me both.”

            Sirius and Remus retired, knowing they would have to get up early to Floo over to the Weasley’s house.  They were meeting up to head to King’s Cross together, especially since Mr. Weasley owned a car, and Harry’s godfathers did not.

            The next morning, the Burrow was in chaos.  Red-haired people were running around, running into each other on the stairs, half-eaten bits of toast hanging out of their mouths.  When Sirius and Remus appeared in the fireplace, they were immediately bombarded with the sound of Mrs. Weasley shrieking at the twins for setting off some of Dr. Filibuster’s Fabulous Wet-Start, No-Heat Fireworks.  Sirius grinned at the sound, deciding that he should send the twins some ideas on spectacular pranks to pull.  Harry tumbled through the grate, Fluffy following and Kaida wrapped around his arm.  Kreacher came last, toting Harry’s trunk and Hedwig’s cage.  He trotted out of living room and into the kitchen, ready to help Mrs. Weasley with lunches for everyone.

            Mr. Weasley nearly broke his neck when he tripped over a stray chicken while carrying Ginny’s trunk to the car.  He let out a stream of curse words that had Mrs. Weasley sending a Stinging Jinx his way.  Harry took his trunk out to the blue Ford Anglia that Mr. Weasley was shoving Ginny’s things into.

            “Undetectable Extension Charm,” Mr. Weasley whispered.  “Don’t let Molly know, I’m not supposed to charm muggle objects.”

            “I think it’s brilliant.  How else are we going to fit eight trunks and twelve people in one car?” said Harry in response.

            Soon enough, they were all crammed into the car and on their way to London.  However, not long after they left, they were back again, because George had forgotten his fireworks.  Minutes later, they were again screeching into the yard as Fred ran and got his broomstick.  They were nearly to the highway when Ginny shrieked that she had left her diary, and they had to turn back.  By the time Ginny had scrambled back into the car, they were running very late, and tempers were running quite high.

             Harry saw Mrs. Weasley tapping on the dashboard nervously as she kept glancing at the clock.  He wasn’t able to see what they were saying to each other, but it was clear that she and Mr. Weasley were arguing about something.  They got to King’s Cross at a quarter to eleven.  Sirius, Remus, and Mr. Weasley dashed across the road to get trolleys for everyone’s trunks, and they were soon hurrying through the station towards platforms 9 and 10.

            Percy disappeared through the barrier with five minutes left to eleven.  Mr. Weasley and Remus went through next followed by Fred, George, and Sirius.

            “I’ll take Ginny and you two come right after us,” Mrs. Weasley told Harry and Ron as she grabbed Ginny’s hand and set off.  In the blink of an eye, they were gone.

            “Let’s go together, we’ve only got a minute,” Ron said to Harry.

            Harry made sure that Hedwig’s cage was secured firmly on top of his trunk and that he had a good hold on Fluffy’s leash.  Then, he wheeled his trolley around to face the barrier.  He felt confident as he looked at the barrier, knowing that he was able to get through the year prior.  Besides, it wasn’t nearly as uncomfortable to run at a seemingly solid wall as it was to travel by Floo powder.  Harry bent low over his trolley, Ron following closely behind as they charged towards the wall.  They gained speed, running as fast as they could and were only a few feet from the wall.  A brief thought flashed through Harry’s mind of being able to see all of his friends, before his progress was halted quite suddenly.

            Ron plowed into the wall, right behind Harry, his trunk falling off of the trolley and landing on his friend.  He let out a yell as he went straight over the trolley and into the wall, the corner of the barrier leaving a gash on his head.  Once he picked himself up, Ron immediately turned to see his friend being crushed by the heavy Hogwarts trunk, his tanned face rapidly losing color.

            “Harry!  Are you alright?” he called as he struggled to lift the heavy trunk off of him.

            A guard nearby yelled at Ron, “What in blazes d’you think you’re doing?”

            Ron barely spared a glance to the guard as he responded almost automatically, “Lost control of our trolleys.”  The guard turned away, muttering about irresponsible kids, but Ron firmly ignored him in favor of checking on Harry.

            “Come on Harry.  Wake up!” he muttered.  There was no response.  His stomach was rapidly growing, and Harry got even paler.  “What should I do?”

            Ron placed his hand on the barrier, trying to see if it would let him through, but it was as solid as the muggles thought it was.  “If we can’t get through, then Mum and Dad can’t get back to us.  And I don’t think Harry will survive long.  Something’s seriously wrong if he’s this pale,” he muttered to himself.

            As if the thought was placed there, Ron remembered Harry telling him about the communicator that McGonagall had given him.  The redhead dug through Harry’s pockets, finding the small device and frantically pushing the button.  He gazed into the mirror part, and was relieved when the Deputy Headmistress’s face appeared in the glass.

            “Professor, Harry’s in trouble.  We couldn’t get through the barrier, and now he’s unconscious.  What do I do?”

            “Cast the spell _Episkey_ as many times as you can until I get to you.  Where are you exactly?”

            “Just outside the barrier.  Please hurry, Professor.  He doesn’t look very good.”

            Ron dug his wand out of his trouser pocket and began to cast the spell that McGonagall had instructed him to.  He said the spell over and over again, not caring that muggles saw them in broad daylight.  Harry gained a little color in his cheeks, but he was still far too pale.  His wand began to heat up in his hand, nearly burning his palm from the amount of magic passing through it.  Ron ignored the pain, to desperate to save his friend to worry about something so minor.

            Just as McGonagall rushed up to the two boys, his wand decided it couldn’t handle the magic anymore and with a mighty crack, it snapped in two.  McGonagall gasped when she saw the state that Harry was in.  She cast a few more complicated healing charms to help stabilize Harry, before gently picking the boy up.  “Mr. Weasley, I will be back for you in a few minutes.  Severus is coming as well.  In the meantime, I want you to pick up all of your school things and wait here for Severus or me.”  She turned on the spot and disappeared, startling several muggles.

            Ron ignored their stares in favor of gathering Hedwig’s cage and Harry’s trunk onto a trolley.  He then gathered his own things before taking Fluffy’s leash.  She had stayed out of the way, knowing how important it was for Harry to receive medical attention.

            Kaida had also flown off of Harry when he hit the wall, and she climbed into Ron’s pocket, her worry for her human growing by the second.  Because of her bond with Harry, she could feel his life-force slipping away, even as she felt the medi-witch at Hogwarts begin to work her charms on him.  Ron fiddled a bit, trying his hardest not to gain more attention than they had already received.

            It wasn’t long before Snape and McGonagall came back for him, a couple Ministry officials trailing behind.  One of them approached Ron while the other started waving his wand in complicated movements.

            “Mr. Weasley, are you aware that you performed Underage Magic in front of several muggles?” the Ministry official asked.

            “Yes, I am extremely aware,” Ron snapped.  “My best friend was dying because the bloody barrier wouldn’t let us through.  It was all I could do to keep him from dying.”

            The official’s eyebrows raised.  “I don’t think the barrier has ever been closed.  Are you sure you didn’t just miss?”

            “I’m sure.  You can try it yourself,” said Ron.

            Of course, when the official leaned up against the barrier, it was just as solid as it had been when Harry and Ron had tried to go through.  “That is very concerning.  We will be launching a full investigation.  It would take an immense amount of magic to seal the gateway to Platform 9 ¾.”

            Severus Snape pushed past the official, kneeling in front of Ron.  “We should get you to the hospital wing, Mr. Weasley.  You could use some healing, yourself.”

            Ron suddenly remembered the rather nasty gash he had gotten on his forehead as well as his bruised ribs.  He sagged to the ground, his exhaustion catching up with him.  He had expended a massive amount of magical energy casting the healing spell, and he slipped into an unconscious state.  Severus scooped the boy up, and cast a Patronus Charm, informing the Weasleys, Sirius, and Remus of the situation, encouraging them to head to Hogwarts.

            Severus grabbed the handle of one of the trunks while Minerva grabbed the second and the two cages, as well as Fluffy’s leash.  They apparated to the Leaky Cauldron before Flooing to Minerva’s office at Hogwarts.

            Minerva ushered Severus off to the hospital wing while she took care of their luggage.  It didn’t take long for her to get everything up to the Slytherin second-year boys’ dormitory, and she was soon heading to the front gates.  Sirius and Remus were waiting to be let in, with Mr. Weasley comforting Mrs. Weasley just behind them.

            “What happened?” Sirius demanded.

            “There was a mishap at the station.  The barrier between Platforms 9 and 10 was sealed for some reason, and the boys crashed into it.  Harry was severely injured, and Madame Pomfrey is still trying to stabilize him.  Ron got a rather nasty cut on his head from the brick corner, has a few bruised ribs, and is suffering from magical exhaustion,” she listed as the adults hurried into the castle.

            When they got to the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey was leaning over Harry, pouring a potion down his throat.  Ron was sleeping nearby, his head bandaged and Severus sitting in a chair nearby.

            “How is he doing,” Remus asked fiercely.  (It was rather close to the full moon, and he always got more protective of his pack at that time of month.  When someone threatened his cub, he could get vicious.)

            “Minerva, I need absolute silence.  Make sure they’re all quiet, or get them out of here,” Madame Pomfrey snapped.  She began muttering under her breath as she cast complex healing spells, and Harry seemed to glow a faint blue light.

            The adults gathered around Ron’s bed, knowing better than to get in Madame Pomfrey’s way, but wanting to keep an eye on their children.  Mrs. Weasley was gripping her husband’s hand tightly, while Mr. Weasley’s eyes never left Ron’s face.  Sirius and Remus were holding hands, needing the comfort, as Harry continued to fight for his life.

            Hours passed, and it seemed like nothing had changed.  Harry was still extremely pale, though he was now glowing a light purple.  Madame Pomfrey had sweat running down her face, and her hand was shaking slightly, but no one dared to offer to give her a break.  She was the only one that could save Harry, and they weren’t going to risk him dying.  Finally, just as the sky was getting dark, she sat down in a chair, breathing heavily.

            “He’s out of danger,” she announced quietly to the adults.  Remus sprang up immediately, followed closely by Sirius and Severus.  (Sirius still couldn’t quite get over the fact that he was cordial with his childhood enemy.  They even had a permanent bedroom for Severus at Grimmauld Place.)

            Remus pulled his chair over to Harry’s bed, and grabbed the boy’s hand.  “How bad was it?” he asked softly, dreading the answer.

            “He has a concussion, probably from when he hit his head on the barrier.  His ribs were broken, puncturing one of his lungs.  The lung collapsed, and he was barely breathing when I got to him.  It took me a bit to figure out why his belly was swelling so much, but I found that he had massive amounts of internal bleeding.  I’m not sure what caused that, but it took a long time for me to stop the bleeding.  He’ll need Blood Replenishing potions every two hours for the next week and every six hours for the week after.  I’ve fixed his broken ribs and re-inflated his lung.  Now, his body just needs to rest,” she explained as best as she could.

            Mrs. Weasley let out a sob, and her husband gathered her into his arms.  Minerva shuddered, realizing just how close they were to losing Harry.  Severus’s pale skin went even paler, and he immediately sat back down in his chair, his hands running through his hair.  Sirius sat down on the bed next to Harry and stroked his godson’s hair, taking comfort from the fact that he could hear the boy’s breathing and trying not to disturb the dragon that was sleeping peacefully in the crook of Harry’s neck.

            Madame Pomfrey said, “If it wasn’t for Mr. Weasley, there is no way we would have been able to save Harry.”  She looked at Ron’s parents.  “You should be proud of your son.  He was a hero tonight.”

            “Oh, we are,” Mr. Weasley replied.  “We are extremely proud of Ron.”

            Madame Pomfrey let out a big sigh before heaving herself back to her feet.  She ambled over to Ron’s bed, trying to not exacerbate the ache in her feet from standing so long.  She checked the ginger’s temperature, and found that he was running a fever.

            “Severus, would you mind finding a Fever-Reducing Potion?  I do believe that Mr. Weasley is suffering from extreme magical exhaustion, and his body can’t cool down.”

            The Potions Master walked over to the cupboard that held the stores of medical potions and grabbed a glowing green vial.  He tipped it into Ron’s mouth and waited for the ginger Slytherin to swallow before vanishing the crystal vial.  Immediately, steam hissed from Ron’s skin as his body began to cool down.

            Madame Pomfrey sat in a chair next to the Weasleys and grabbed Molly’s hand.  “Ron will need to spend at least a week recovering from the drainage on his core.  It’s a miracle he didn’t die with how much magical energy he used today,” she said softly.

            Mr. and Mrs. Weasley sat in shock.  They had come so close to losing one of their children, as well as the boy they considered to be a part of their family.  Molly choked out a sob, and squeezed her husband’s hand.  It was her very worst fear, to lose one of her kids, and Mr. Weasley knew it.  He wrapped an arm around his wife and pulled her into his shoulder, murmuring words of comfort in her ear.

            “What does this mean for Ron?” Mr. Weasley asked.

            Madame Pomfrey let out a sigh.  “He’s going to need to avoid anything hot or warm for the next week, so he’ll be mainly eating ice cream and other goodies.  It’s likely that he’ll fall asleep suddenly, maybe even in the middle of a conversation for the next few months.  He’ll also need to avoid casting any spells or using his magic for at least two weeks, in order to make sure that his core is sufficiently replenished.”

            Minerva glanced at her pocket watch and gave a start of surprise.  “Severus, the rest of the students are at Hogsmeade.  We need to get down in time to welcome the first-years.”

            Minerva swept out of the room, rushing down the many flights of stairs to the Entrance Hall, and to the little door where she would greet the first years.  Severus, however, hesitated a little longer in the hospital wing.  He knew that he had responsibilities, but he also wanted nothing more than to stay and watch over the child that had stolen his heart.

            To everyone’s surprise, Sirius was the one to speak up.  “You know, Severus, when Lily and James made you one of Harry’s guardians, I was a little wary, as I’m sure you would understand.  But I see now, that you love Harry with all of your heart.  As much as I was hoping that he would be a Gryffindor, I’m glad that he’s in your House.  I’m proud of the fact that he’s a Slytherin.  It’s your job to watch over him nine months out of the year, and you’ve done it wonderfully well.  Harry loves you, so much.  But right now, you have other Slytherins to look after.  We’ll keep an eye on Harry tonight while you get your new Slytherins settled in, and if anything happens, I’ll personally send you a Patronus.”

            Severus gave a quick nod, before heading down to the Great Hall for the Welcome Feast.  But in his heart, he was glowing with pride and joy at what Sirius had said to him.  “Who would have thought that we would be cordial and even friendly with each other?” he muttered.  Up in heaven, Lily merely laughed at the ridiculousness of her two friends.

            “I’ve always said that if you got on the same side, you and Sirius would be best friends,” she said.  James gave an offended huff.  “Besides you, of course,” Lily amended.

 

* * *

 

            To say that the Slytherins were worried would be an understatement.  Hermione marched right up to the teachers’ table, followed by the rest of the second year Slytherins, Neville, Fred and George, Susan, and Hannah Abbott.

            “Where is Harry and Ron?” she demanded.

            Severus looked at her, one eyebrow raised in surprise.  He had never expected Hermione Granger to raise her voice at a teacher, let alone her head of house.  He was silent for a few minutes, challenging Miss Granger before he noticed the fire flashing from her eyes as well as Pansy’s and Draco’s.  Severus let out a sigh, having learned last year that it was not a good idea to ignore his snakes.  “They’re in the hospital wing, though I would appreciate it if you didn’t advertise that information.”

            Blaise spoke up, “Term hasn’t even started yet?  How are they already in the hospital wing?”

            Severus pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to stop the growing headache from spreading.  “I’m sure they would love to tell you the story later, but right now, both Harry and Ron are unconscious.  There was a mishap with the barrier at Platform 9 ¾.  That’s all I’m willing to say right now, but I expect that Madame Pomfrey will let you all visit for a few minutes after the feast.”

            Clearly, none of the students were satisfied, but they realized they would get no more information from Professor Snape.  Reluctantly, they sat down at their respective tables, though it took a glare from Severus to make the twins and Neville sit at the Gryffindor table

            Flitwick nudged the Potions Master.  Minerva was entering the hall with the newest students, all of them looking around them in awe.  Severus noticed one Weasley in the group, and a part of him hoped that she would be sorted into Slytherin, especially since her older brother had made such an impact on his house.

            Every year, he and Flitwick would play a game of sorts, trying to guess which student would be sorted into which House.  If his memory was correct, it was actually something that James and Sirius started to do their second year, although Severus’s version was much more mild.  Essentially, James and Sirius would shout out their guesses, and if they got it right, they would cheer.  However, if they got it wrong, they would boo the Sorting Hat loudly, to the point that one year, it stopped in the middle of the Sorting to scold the two.  Lily would occasionally join in, though she wouldn’t yell out her guesses.  And she was never wrong.

            In the case of the two professors, the one who had guessed correctly the most, would receive a bottle of firewhiskey from the other.  Flitwick had won the last two years and Severus was determined to win.

            The rest of the Feast went by without any complications, though one first-year Hufflepuff fainted when the Fat Friar appeared in front of her.  She was quickly taken up to the hospital wing for Madame Pomfrey to administer a Pepper-Up Potion.

            After all the announcements were made and the students sent off to bed, including the Slytherins that wanted to visit Harry (Severus had received a message stating that there were not to be any visitors that night.  They could all come to see Ron and Harry in the morning), and Severus handed Flitwick a bottle of firewhiskey with a lot of grumbling, the castle seemed to quiet down.  Little did the students and staff know that in a few short months, the peace they felt that night would be long forgotten.

 

* * *

 

            It was a week and a half before Harry was allowed to leave the hospital wing, though Madame Pomfrey had preferred that he stay there even longer.  Harry had to use every trick in his book to convince her to let him go a little early.  Ron had been released only five days after the incident at the barrier, and Harry glared at his best friend jealously.

            “Come now, piccolo, I know that you hate being in the hospital wing, but please, try to rest for your Aunt Poppy,” she plead after three days.

            Harry thought about it for a moment, before deciding that he liked the sound of Aunt Poppy, though he had no idea why she called him “piccolo.”  “I’ll stay in bed for the rest of the day if you tell me why you called me piccolo, Aunt Poppy,” Harry bargained.

            Sighing in relief, Madame Pomfrey pulled up a chair and sat down next to Harry’s bed.  “My grandmother on my mother’s side was raised in Italy.  She used to call my little brother piccolo.  It means “little one.”  My brother died nearly fifty years ago, and you remind me so much of him.  He was sweet and loved everyone with all of his little heart.  I figured I could pass the nickname down to the person that reminded me most of him.”

            “What was his name?” asked Harry.

            “Oliver.  My mother named all of her children after plants.  I was the oldest, then Ollie, and little Marigold was the youngest.  She’s a potioneer in Africa.”

            Harry went back on his word for just a moment to give his new aunt a hug.  He decided he didn’t mind being called “little one” if it was in memory of one of Aunt Poppy’s siblings.  In fact, he was honored that she had chosen him to give the name to.

            Now, however, he was glad to get out of the hospital wing.  He loved Madame Pomfrey, but he hated that he had to be taken care of so frequently.  Harry wandered down the halls towards the dungeons, where all of his friends were most likely spending time.  He was looking at a tapestry, thinking of Oliver Pomfrey when he bumped into someone.

            “I am so sorry,” Harry gasped, turning to the person he had knocked into.

            “Oh, that’s alright,” said a girl with hair lighter than Draco’s.  She had a whimsical aura about her, and a dreamy look in her eyes.  “You’re Harry Potter.”

            “Yeah, that’s me.  What’s your name?” he asked.

            “I’m Luna Lovegood.  I’m a first-year Ravenclaw.  You’re a Slytherin.  I don’t think you’re supposed to be seen talking to me.”

            Harry shook his head vehemently.  “That is absolute nonsense.  I will talk to who I want, when I want, and I won’t care what any one has to say on the matter.”

            She smiled at him, a pretty and vibrant smile.  He couldn’t help but smile back.  “I think that is very admirable, Harry.”  She turned to the tapestry Harry had been admiring.  “This is a very interesting image of Icabar the Insane.  Everyone thought he was crazy when he discovered bezoars, especially since they had no idea how he had tested it.  Besides, who would think to look in the stomach of a goat for a stone,” she said rather dreamily.

            Harry looked at her in surprise.  “Wait, Icabar was the one to discover bezoars?  I searched all last year to find out who discovered them, and the answer was right up here.”

            “I’m glad to help,” said Luna.  “You know, with that kind of thirst for knowledge, you could have easily been in Ravenclaw.”

            Harry chuckled a bit.  “As much as I admire Ravenclaws, I’m perfectly content to stay in Slytherin.  Though, I would like to get more friends in Ravenclaw.  I’m friendly with most of the ones in my year, but none of them are my close friends.”

            Luna smiled at Harry, filling him with a sense of peace.  “I’ll be your friend, Harry.  As long as you want me as a friend, that is.”

            “Why wouldn’t I want you as a friend, Luna?”

            “Most people find me strange,” she answered honestly.

            “Well, I didn’t have any friends at all until I got to Hogwarts.  How about you come with me to the Slytherin common room?  I think Neville and Draco are setting up Twister there, and it will be the perfect chance or you to find new friends,” Harry offered, holding out his arm for Luna to take.

            “I have no idea what Twister is, but it sounds like fun,” she said cheerfully as she accepted his arm.

            As they walked down to the dungeons, Harry explained the muggle game as well as the adjustments Fred, George, and Hermione had made.  While talking, he glanced at the blonde girl, glad to have made a friend so quickly.  While he was friendly enough with the Ravenclaws in his year, he hadn’t really made friends with them.  Now, though, he hoped to say that he had friends from every house in Hogwarts.

            The common room was a mess when Harry led Luna in.  There were students all over that were different colors.  Funnily enough, each of the colors on the mat corresponded to one of the colors of the Houses of Hogwarts.  Ginny was currently a vibrant red, looking proud of the fact that she was sporting her House color.  Draco, who was the same shade, was looking rather glum.  Hermione, George, Lee Jordan, and Pansy were all still playing, with everyone else watching with bated breath.

            George tumbled down, taking Lee and Hermione with him, leaving Pansy the winner.  Everyone reverted to their original tones, and they all laughed at how silly some of their friends looked.  The blue had certainly been an interesting choice for Goyle, though not as humorous as yellow for Crabbe.  To Harry’s surprise and delight, he realized that Regulus Black was in the middle of all the bedlam, having just reverted from a lovely Slytherin green.

            “Hi Reg.  Hey everyone,” Harry called out.  “I’d like you to meet my new friend, Luna Lovegood.  She’s from Ravenclaw.”

            **Harry, you know that here, I’m supposed to go by Professor Sable,** Regulus scolded before giving Harry a great big hug.  To Luna, he said, “Welcome to the Honorary Snake Club.  If these guys accept you as one of their own, you won’t ever go a day without having a friend nearby.”

            The Slytherin second-years all laughed at that, while Neville, Ginny, George and Fred, Lee, Susan, and Hannah all nodded in agreement.  It was as if they had been sorted into Slytherin with how welcome they felt in the common room.  Little did Regulus know, the name Snake Club would stick with the group for the rest of their lives.

            “I’m truly glad.  Though I think that Harry wants to tell everyone something,” Luna said in her airy voice.

            Harry looked a little shocked that she had picked up on that, but decided to let it go for now.  He would unravel the mysterious Luna Lovegood at a later time.  “She’s right.  I do need to tell you lot something, but it would probably be better if we went up to the boys’ dormitory.”

            The group trooped up the stairs, though no one noticed when Crabbe and Goyle snuck away to spend time with a few of the older students instead.  Regulus excused himself to go find Severus, figuring that this was something that he probably already knew.  Their group had grown since last year, and there wasn’t necessarily enough room on the beds for everyone.  The twins, Harry, and Ron sat on Ron’s bed, while the Pansy, Daphne, and Susan took over Harry’s.  Draco and Blaise were sitting together on Draco’s, along with Theo and Millicent.  Hermione was about to join Hannah and Luna on Blaise’s bed, but George grabbed her hand and tugged her onto his lap.  Lee watched all of this with obvious glee, wiggling his eyebrows at the ebony bookworm.  She blushed and hid her head in her arms.

            “Look at it this way, your Highness,” said Fred.  “You can interpret for Harry without having to stand.  And, you’ll find that George is rather comfortable to cuddle with.”

            “Thank you, Fred.  Now, you just make yourself comfy, Sunshine,” George said with a wink.

            Everyone laughed at the twins’ antics, and especially at Hermione’s red face.  Harry grinned at his friend, and she reluctantly smiled back.

            Once everyone was situated on a bed, Harry launched into the story of Dobby the house elf, and the warning he had given Harry.

            **“Wait, did you say Dobby?”** Draco asked incredulously after getting Harry’s attention.

            “Yeah, that’s what he said his name was.  Why?”

            **“Because we have a house elf named Dobby.  But why would he go to all that effort to warn you about something dangerous?”**

            Blaise waved the question away, while drawing Harry’s eyes to him.  **“More importantly, why did Dobby decide to take all of your letters?  We were going crazy with worry.  I mean, I understand that house elves everywhere look up to Harry, but why try to make him feel alone?”**

            “Dobby only said that he was trying to get me to not come to Hogwarts this year,” explained Harry.  He continued to tell them everything that had happened.  “There was that warning, and then, when Ron and I try to get onto the platform, the barrier was as solid as a normal brick wall.  We crashed into it, and I almost died.”

            “I’m almost scared to ask, but how bad was it?” Daphne asked.

            “Aunt Poppy said that I had massive amounts of internal bleeding, which was probably from Ron’s trunk falling on me, several broken ribs, and a punctured and collapsed lung.  If it wasn’t for Ron’s quick thinking in contacting Aunt Minnie, they wouldn’t have been able to save me,” responded Harry.  He knew that it was better if he was honest, especially since Pansy and Hermione had mastered getting information from him.  Then, an idea hit him.  “Do you think it was Dobby that sealed the barrier on Ron and me?”

            Ron looked a little startled at the idea.  “Is the house elf trying to kill you, Harry?”

            “I don’t know.  This whole thing is so confusing,” Harry grumbled.  “Why is Hogwarts especially dangerous this year?  Why can’t Dobby just tell us what is going to happen?  Why did the Platform seal itself against us?  And what does any of this have to do with Voldemort, if it does at all?”

            Hermione dug a notebook out of her pocket and stole a quill and some ink from Lee Jordan.  She quickly jotted down all of the questions that Harry had blurted out.  “Looks like we have ourselves a mystery, this year,” she announced.


	7. Chapter 7

             During Harry’s first day back at school, his friends all caught him up on everything that had happened so far.

            **“Lockhart is a horrible teacher, regardless of how dreamy he is,”** Pansy sighed at breakfast.  Daphne and Millicent eagerly nodded in agreement.

            “What has he taught you so far?” Harry asked.  He was certainly curious as to what kind of lessons he should expect from this DADA professor.  Quirrell’s had mostly been lecture-based, and Harry couldn’t understand a majority of those lessons.

            “Well, on the first day, he gave us a quiz to see if we had read his books, but it turned out to only have questions about him.  I mean, he asked us what his favorite broom model is,” Theo griped.  “And then, he let loose a bunch of Cornish Pixies in the classroom.  He said some kind of spell that didn’t work and ran out of the classroom, leaving poor Neville hanging from the chandelier and us Slytherins to round up the pixies.  It took us over an hour to get them all back in their cage, and we ended up missing half of dinner because of it.”

            Daphne added, “And since then, he’s only acted out scenes from his books.  There are only so many times that I can handle hearing about how he defeated the Bandon Banshee.

            “At least I don’t have to make up any homework.  Aunt Minnie gave me an essay two parchment rolls long to make up for the week I missed.  I mean, I don’t really mind, since Transfiguration is such a wonderful subject, but I really hate writing essays,” Harry complained.

            Ron winced in sympathy.  He had received a similar assignment, though nowhere near as long as Harry’s.  McGonagall was always super strict, and regardless of the reason, she always had students writing essays if they missed her class.  Snape was similar, but he had gone easier on Harry and Ron, knowing that they had gone through a rather traumatic event.

            They were currently in the Great Hall, eating breakfast and getting ready for the classes for the day.  They had Herbology first with the Ravenclaws followed by Defense Against the Dark Arts with the Gryffindors.

            Harry stared down at his oatmeal in disgust.  All of the progress they had made last year had vanished over the summer, what with all of the nightmares that he had.  He vomited after every single one, which was not pleasant, and did not help him maintain his weight.  (Mrs. Weasley was extremely worried, and had been corresponding with a Healer at St. Mungo’s for advice.)  His stay in the hospital wing hadn’t helped either, regardless of the number of Nutrient Potions Aunt Poppy forced him to drink.

            Now, it seemed as though something as small and simple and tiny as oatmeal caused his stomach to roil in rebellion.  Ron watched him with concern.  He had also been owling his mother for advice on how to help him as best as he could.

            Harry pushed the oatmeal around in his bowl, not even the blueberries sparking his appetite.  Instead, he decided to review the notes that Hermione had given him for Herbology.  The week before, Professor Sprout had quizzed the second-years on the plants that they had learned about the year before, briefly reviewing since Professor Sprout knew that very few of her students had studied over the summer.

            Following the rest of the second-years out to the greenhouses, Harry skipped along beside his friends.  He was the only one that hadn’t grown at all over the summer, and was just as small as ever.  He had to take two steps to one of Ron’s to keep up, and he found that skipping was the best way to do that.

            Blaise watched Harry out of the corner of his eye.  His father had told him about the hearing, and what Harry had told the members of Wizengamot.  He had known that the muggles treated Harry badly when Draco and Hermione told them about the scars they had seen, but he never thought it to be that bad.  Blaise couldn’t imagine living in a place where there was a good chance of being killed by the people that were supposed to take care of you.  He sidled up alongside Ron.

            “I know that you and Hermione are trying to figure out a way to help Harry.  What can I do?” he whispered, making sure that Harry wasn’t watching.  (In fact, Harry was busy waving to Hagrid who was leading around a half-eagle, half-horse creature.  Harry was enthusiastically telling Pansy all about the creature called a hippogriff, and how to interact with them.)

            They arrived at the greenhouses, and Ron turned to look at Blaise fully in the eye.  “I’m not gonna lie, but it’s going to be incredibly difficult to help him.  He has nightmares every single night and places a Silencing Charm around his bed, and he ends up vomiting when he wakes up.  If we’re going to help him, it’s going to be a long and difficult journey.”

            “My dad told me about how bad it was at the muggles’ house.  I need to do something for Harry, even if it’s not much,” Blaise said, his eyes conveying exactly how serious he was.

            Ron nodded.  “I’m writing to my Mum for advice.  She was training to be a Healer before the war, and she might have some tips.  Hermione is researching in the library, and she could probably use some help there.  Other than that, helping Harry deal with his nightmares is the only thing any of us can really do.”

            Hermione appeared at Ron’s elbow.  “Trouble is headed this way.  We need to keep Lockhart from seeing Harry for as long as possible.”  (Her admiration for the man had disappeared when she saw what he did to Harry.)  Lockhart was approaching the group, walking next to Professor Sprout.  His long, flamboyant, turquoise robes whipped around in the slight breeze, his hair ruffling perfectly.  Next to him, Professor Sprout looked rather shabby and dirty, but all of the Slytherins had infinitely more respect for her.  She taught them and taught them well, without any prejudice against the houses.

            Harry saw Lockhart and watched him carefully, ready to dart behind Theo if the man came anywhere near him.  However, from his position, he could perfectly read the professor’s lips.

            “And that, my dear Professor Sprout, is the proper way to take care of a Whomping Willow.  If you have any questions, or need any help taming the old rascal, you just send me an owl, and I’ll be down as soon as I can.”

            Professor Sprout looked decidedly grumpy when she motioned the second-years over to Greenhouse 3.  Harry doubted that anyone would be happy to have a rookie teacher tell you how to do your job.  He firmly ignored when Lockhart saw him, but his friends sent a glare at the boisterous man, refusing to let him anywhere near Harry.

            Ignoring the other students, Lockhart beamed at Harry, before calling out to Professor Sprout.  “You don’t mind if Harry is a few minutes late, do you, Professor Sprout?  I’ve been wanting to talk to him.”

            Ron stepped in front of Harry, preventing him from seeing what was being said, but all the other Slytherins looked on with pride.  “Excuse me, Professor Lockhart, but Harry has already missed too much class, and being late would hurt his grades.  Besides, you heard what Sirius said, you aren’t allowed to come near Harry.”

            Lockhart blustered and glared at the tall, gangly redhead.  “I highly doubt any of this is your concern, _boy_.  As it is, you will be serving detention with me later on tonight as a punishment for talking back to one of your teachers.  And, I will still be having that word with Harry.”

            But, Draco had quietly ushered Harry into the greenhouse, behind the tall forms of Blaise, Theo, and Millicent.  Terry Boot held the door open, and helped hide Harry from their egocentric professor.  The other Ravenclaws crowded around the doorway, in order to make sure that Lockhart wouldn’t be able to get through to Harry.  They had all seen how kind and generous the boy was, and he was terrified of the man trying to get to him.

            Lockhart tried to get past Ron, not realizing that Harry was already in the greenhouse, hidden by the students of two houses.  “Move aside, _boy_.  You should not interfere with things that don’t concern you.”  He put his hand on Ron’s shoulder, and shoved him roughly to the side, causing the redhead to crash into Pansy.

            The two students went sprawling on the ground, and Professor Sprout’s eyes flashed angrily at Lockhart.  “You are interrupting my lesson.  If you wish to speak to Potter, you will have to do it at a later time, preferably after your own class period.  I also suggest that you never raise your hand to harm a student again, or you will not last long at Hogwarts,” she said threateningly.  It was so rare that the cheerful professor got angry, that all of the students watched in awe as Lockhart cowered away from her.  He slunk up to the castle, though now without throwing several dirty looks towards the Slytherins.

            Everyone filed into the greenhouse.  Ron got up and helped Pansy to her feet.  “Sorry, Pans.  I didn’t mean to squish you,” he mumbled sheepishly.

            “It’s alright, Ron.  You were protecting Harry, after all,” Pansy said with a smile and a pat on the redhead’s shoulder.

            Harry sat at one of the tables with Draco, reading through his Herbology textbook.  He looked a bit peaky and nervous, and his eyes kept flitting over to the door as though a brightly-colored nightmare would burst through at any minute.  He was rather distracted and didn’t even notice when everyone was sitting down.  Draco looked over at Terry Boot, who sat at the table next to them.

            “Thanks for your help, Boot.  We all really appreciate it,” he said.  Then, he raised his voice so everyone in the greenhouse could hear.  “I know that we’re not really friends, and that you probably hate all Slytherins, but I want to thank all of you for what you did for Harry.  If any of you ever need anything, feel free to come to any of us.”

            Padma Patil spoke up, “No need to thank us, Malfoy.  We were only doing what was right.  Harry is sweet, and he’s doing a lot to increase inter-house relationships.  It was only fair that we put forth the effort as well.”

            Professor Sprout clapped her hands, getting everyone’s attention and preventing anyone else from saying anything.  Draco nudged Harry, and the boy looked up at their Herbology teacher, ready to read her lips.  “Alright class, today we are going to be repotting Mandrakes.  The Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs did half of the crop last week, but the others weren’t mature enough to transfer yet.  Now, can anyone tell me the properties of the Mandrake?”

            Hermione’s hand shot up, closely followed by Harry’s.  (He was almost as interested in Herbology as Neville was.)  Professor Sprout pointed to Hermione first.  “Mandrake, or Mandragora, is a powerful restorative.  It is used to return people who have been transfigured or cursed to their original state.”

            “Excellent.  Ten points to Slytherin,” said Professor Sprout.  “Mr. Potter?  Anything to add?”

            “Hermione touched all of the basics, but Mandrakes, particularly the leaves and roots, are used in several antidotes.  It is also one of the main ingredients required for becoming an Animagus,” Harry spouted off, remembering the Transfiguration book that Minerva had given to him last Christmas.

            “Correct, Mr. Potter.  Another ten points to Slytherin, especially since most students don’t learn about Animagi until after their OWLs.  The Mandrake does indeed form an essential part of most antidotes.  However, it is also very dangerous.  Who can tell me why?”

            Padma Patil raised her hand slowly, while Hermione was distracted by Ron poking her with his broken wand.  (He had used Spellotape earlier that week to try to fix it, knowing that he wouldn’t be able to get a new wand until Christmas break.  That is, if his parents had enough money left over to get him a new one.)  “The cry of the Mandrake is fatal to anyone who hears it,” said Padma hesitantly.

            “Precisely.  Ten points to Ravenclaw,” said Professor Sprout.  “Now, the Mandrakes that we have here are still very young.”

            There was a row of deep trays that she pointed to, indicating the plants they were going to be working with.  Harry leaned forward to get a closer look.  Fifty or so tufty little plants, purplish green in color, were growing there in rows.  They looked quite unremarkable, but Harry had learned over the year that he had known about the wizarding world, that things were not always what they seemed.  He still had no idea what Padma meant by the “cry” of the Mandrake, since he hadn’t seen a picture of an actual Mandrake.

            “Everyone take a pair of earmuffs,” Professor Sprout instructed before everyone except Harry, moved forward to avoid getting the pair of pink, fluffy ones.  “When I tell you to put them on, make sure your ears are _completely_ covered.  When it is safe to remove them, I will give you the thumbs-up.”  The Herbology teacher was about to tell them to put their earmuffs on, when she realized that she had a spare pair on the table.

            “Who hasn’t gotten a pair of earmuffs?” she demanded, looking at all of the students.

            Harry sheepishly raised his hand.  “I didn’t think I’d need them, since I can’t hear anyway.”

            Professor Sprout relaxed a bit, realizing that it wasn’t a student trying to get out of class or make a stupid decision that put them in danger.  “It’s quite alright, Mr. Potter.  Now, everyone, earmuffs on!”

            The students scrambled to put their earmuffs over their ears, shutting out all sound.  Professor Sprout grabbed the fluffy pink ones, which looked a little ridiculous against her fluffy, fly-away hair.  She rolled up the sleeves of her robes, grasped one of the tufty plants firmly, and pulled hard.

            Harry gasped as he suddenly understood why Mandrakes could cry.  Rather than the usual roots, Professor Sprout pulled a small, muddy, and extremely ugly baby out of the earth.  The leaves were growing right out of its head.  It had pale green, mottled skin, and was clearly bawling at the top of its lungs.

            Professor Sprout took a large plant pot from under the table and plunged the Mandrake into it, burying him in dark, damp compost until only the tufted leaves were visible.  Professor Sprout dusted off her hands, gave them all the thumbs-up, and removed her own earmuffs.

            “As our Mandrakes are only seedlings, their cries won’t kill yet,” she said calmly, as though she had just done nothing more exciting than water a begonia.  “However, they will knock you out for several hours, and I’m sure none of you want to miss any of your classes.  So, make sure that your earmuffs are securely in place while you work.  I will attract your attention when it is time to pack up.

            “Four to a tray—there is a large supply of pots here—compost in the sacks over there—and be careful of the Venomous Tentacula, it’s teething.”

            She gave a sharp slap to a spiky, dark red plant as she spoke, making it draw in the long feelers that had been inching sneakily over her shoulder.

            Harry and Draco decided to join Blaise and Theo at their tray.  The deaf boy looked around the room, noticing that several of the Slytherins were wandering over to the Ravenclaws to pair up with them.  Daphne and Pansy were chatting animatedly about current wizard fashions with Padma and Tracey Davis, who seemed to be just as interested as the two Slytherin girls were.  Crabbe and Goyle scowled as they joined Millicent and Michael Corner at their table, as though that was the last place they wanted to be.

            Harry turned back to his table mates, glancing over at Crabbe and Goyle with concern.  “Do you think that Gregory and Vincent are all right?  I mean, they hardly ever spend time with us anymore,” he whispered to his friends.

            Draco looked over at the two boys that were supposed to be his best friends, according to Lucius Malfoy.  **“I don’t know.  Maybe their fathers aren’t really supportive of them being friends with the Boy Who Lived, a Weasley, and a muggleborn.  I mean, you saw what my father was like at Flourish and Blotts, but their dads are much worse, though more stupid.  They will do whatever Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle tell them to, regardless of how much they dislike it.”**

            **“A lot of us have parents that supported You-Know-Who in the war.  We’re not proud of it, but they’ve raised us, hoping that we would eventually follow in their footsteps,”** Blaise added.  **“And, it’s hard to know otherwise when we’ve been told our entire lives that muggles are inferior.  We know differently now.  It’s kind of hard not to when you have Hermione Granger yelling at you to finish your homework.”**

            Theo chuckled at that.  "I thought she was going to hex Ron yesterday, when he refused to work on that essay for Snape.  It was a sight to behold.”

            “I don’t know, her yelling has never bothered me,” said Harry with a cheeky grin on his face.

            “That’s because all you have to do to avoid her nagging is to look away,” Theo grumbled playfully.  They all laughed before putting their earmuffs on and grabbing the necessary equipment for repotting the Mandrakes.

            Theo and Harry threw small handfuls of dirt at each other, and laughed at the Mandrake babies, especially when one of them bit down on Theo’s glove.  Draco found the entire thing to be revolting, and sneered the entire time he worked with the plants.  Blaise was the only one that seemed to be quite unaffected, and worked through the class without saying much of anything.

            Professor Sprout had made repotting the Mandrakes look easy, but it was not.  The Mandrakes didn’t like coming out of the earth, but they didn’t like going back in either.  They kicked, punched, grabbed, and squirmed, their sharp little fists trying to hit anything in their path.  Their teeth would also try to latch onto the student’s gloves.

            One particularly fat Mandrake wrestled with Harry, knocking the boy back and sending him to land on his rump.  The baby began to crawl away, trying to put as much space between it and the pot it was supposed to go in.  Blaise, however, simply grabbed it by the tufted leaves and shoved it into Harry’s pot.  The boy thanked Blaise sheepishly, and stuffed compost into the pot, making sure to get as much of it as possible into the Mandrake’s mouth.

            By the time the class was over, Harry and everyone else were covered in sweat and dirt, and they rushed off to clean themselves up before heading to Transfiguration.  Aunt Minnie’s classes were always difficult, though Harry and Hermione tended to do well in the practical side.

            When the Slytherins rushed into the class, most of the Gryffindors were already sitting there, chatting quietly.  Neville beamed and waved brightly at the group before turning back to his conversation with Fay Dunbar and her friend.  Harry waved back and took a seat next to Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnigan.  (He was a little concerned sitting next to the Irish, since he was well known for setting things on fire.)

            McGonagall’s class that day, was especially difficult.  Harry had never tried transfiguring anything living, and it was proving to be far more difficult than transfiguring objects.  The beetle he was supposed to be turning into a button scurried around their desk, trying to escape from the prodding wands.

            Ron was having far worse problems, due to his broken wand.  It was damaged beyond repair, and tended to crackle and spark at odd moments.  Every time he tried to transfigure his beetle, the wand engulfed him in a thick cloud of grey smoke that smelled distinctly of rotten eggs.  Unable to see what he was doing, Ron accidentally squashed his beetle with his elbow, and had to ask for a new one.  Professor McGonagall was certainly not pleased about this.

            Harry had just managed to turn his beetle into a button and was celebrating his accomplishment, when Pansy stopped by his table.

            **“It’s time for lunch,”** she signed.

            Harry nodded and began to clean up his books and things.  He marched up to McGonagall’s desk and proudly showed her the button he had been able to transfigure.  “It took me awhile, Aunt Minnie, but I managed it just a few minutes ago,” he said.

            **Well done, Harry.  Practice a bit more, and you’ll be able to do it without much difficulty at all.**   She beamed at her child and offered him a biscuit from one of the ever-present packages on her desk.  Harry took a small ginger one, and nibbled on it as he made his way down to the Great Hall for lunch.

            When he got to the Slytherin table, he found the twins telling a story, with all of the first-years hanging onto every word and everyone older rolling their eyes.

            “The monstrous troll began to stomp towards poor Hermione here, and she was quaking in fear, you know.  Trolls are rather ugly,” said George as he tried to imitate what he imagined a troll would look like.

            Fred picked up the story, “Ron and Harry rushed in, declaring that they would be Hermione’s heroic knights in shining armor.  They challenged the troll, and it swung its beady eyes to stare at them.  No one challenged a troll and lived to tell the tale.”

            “Miss Hermione, here, was very brave, and told the boys how to defeat the troll.”  George put his hands on his hips, and must have been mimicking Hermione’s voice, since the girl in question blushed deeply.  “’Ronald, you have to move your wand correctly, or nothing will happen.  And remember, the incantation is Wingardium Levi-O-sa.’”

            Fred leapt onto the bench, and held his wand in front of him as if he were about to duel Voldemort himself.  “Ron raised his wand, while Harry jumped on the troll’s back and stuck his wand up its nose.”  At this, Lee Jordan jumped to his feet from where he was sitting by Blaise, and climbed onto Fred’s back.  “He swished and he flicked his wand, and Ron levitated the troll’s club right out of his hand.  You should have seen the poor thing, it was so confused.”

            George finished the tale with a flourish.  “The club came down on the troll’s head, and Hermione rushed over to thank her saviors, before giving her jesters a quick kiss each.”

            Harry giggled at this retelling, knowing that it was definitely not how it happened.  The truth was much darker and much scarier, but the twins were always embellishing stories for entertainment purposes.  Harry turned to the first-years.  “Don’t listen to a word they say.  They just like to mess around.”

            Lee hopped off of Fred’s back, ignoring McGonagall who was on her way to tell the boys off for messing around on the tables.  Fred, himself, looked offended.  “Oi!  Don’t go ruining our chances with these little first-years, Harry.  It’s much more fun when they believe everything we say.”  He shot a wink in the first-years’ direction and several of the girls giggled.  They appeared to have fallen head over heels for the twins.

            McGonagall finally came up to them, and began to scold the three pranksters.  Fred grabbed George’s arm and Lee’s ear and dragged them back over to the Gryffindor table, Minerva following them the entire way.

            Sitting down next to Hermione, Harry started to put together a small ham sandwich, flavoring it heavily with mustard.  “How did you do in Transfiguration?” he asked Hermione before taking a bite.  She eagerly showed him the buttons that she had made.  “Wow, you did much better than I did.  I didn’t get a button until just before class ended.”

            Harry ate half of his sandwich and placed the other half in a container that Hermione handed him.  It was a common practice for the group of friends to have a kind of container to make sure Harry ate more throughout the day.  He often couldn’t finish is meals, and they used the leftovers to feed him in between meals.

            Ron said something with his mouth full, and Harry looked at him in disgust.  He had no clue what his best friend had just said, and definitely didn’t want to see any of that chewed up shepherd’s pie in his mouth.

            Hermione was digging in her schoolbag, and pulled out her schedule, riddled with notes.  “Defense Against the Dark Arts is our next lesson,” she said, obviously in answer to Ron’s question.

            Shooting a thankful glance at Hermione for helping Harry figure out what his best friend said, Harry groaned and laid his forehead on the table.  “Can we just skip his class?” he asked rhetorically.

            All of his friends laughed in agreement, before packing up their stuff and walking out to the courtyard.  Hermione had taken to reading all of Lockhart’s books, in an effort to prove that the man was a fraud.  Blaise and Theo began a game of Exploding Snap while the girls were off talking about up and coming wizarding designers with Parvati and Lavender from Gryffindor.  Draco and Ron were signing with Harry about Quidditch.  Crabbe and Goyle, as had become more common, were nowhere to be found.

            A young boy wearing the Gryffindor colors, shyly approached Harry.  The boy looked up in surprise, and smiled warmly.  “Hello.  What’s your name?” he said pleasantly.

            The boy blushed brilliantly, and stammered something out.  Draco patiently interpreted for Harry.  **“I’m Colin Creevey.  I’m in Gryffindor, y’know.  D’you think—would it be all right if—can I have a picture?”** he said raising his camera hopefully.

            “A picture?  Why?” Harry asked.  His friends often marveled at how oblivious Harry was to his own fame.

            **“So I can prove I’ve met you,”** said Colin Creevey eagerly, edging a little closer.  **“I know all about you.  Everyone’s told me.  About how you survived when You-Know-Who tried to kill you and how he disappeared and everything and how you’ve still got a lightning scar on your forehead”** (Colin’s eyes wandered to the pale scar that crisscrossed down his face like the lightning everyone compared it to.) **“and a boy in my dormitory said if I develop the film in the right potion, the pictures’ll _move_.”**

            “Wait, you know how to make photographs move?” Harry asked excitedly.  He had spent a lot of his time trying to figure out that particular part of wizarding photos.

            **“It’s actually a really simple potion, but Snape said that he wasn’t going to teach us that potion.  It’s in a book in the library and I’ve already started to make it.”**   The boy paused for a moment, a look of disgust crossing his face.  **“I don’t think I’m doing it right, though.  Anyway, it’s amazing here, isn’t it?  I never knew all the odd stuff I could do was magic until I got the letter from Hogwarts.  My dad’s a milkman, he couldn’t believe it either.  So I’m taking loads of pictures to send home to him.  And I think it’d be swell if I got one of you.”**

            “You know, I didn’t know I was a wizard until I got my letter too.  I was living with muggles, and they never told me anything about magic.”  (Harry didn’t notice Ron mutter to Draco, “I wouldn’t call it living there.  More like enslavement.”  Draco agreed completely.)  “You know, I would love to take a picture with you as long as everyone’s in it.  We could have someone take it, and all of your friends and all of my friends would join us.”

            Colin beamed and went off to gather his friends around.  Lavender stepped forward and offered to take the photo, which Colin happily agreed to.  Harry had to drag Hermione away from the notes she was taking and had her join the rest of the group in the photo.  Neville and the twins were dragged in, as was Ginny, who was nearby.  The picture was taken, and Harry sat talking a bit more with Colin, before class started.

            “You’re muggleborn, right?” Harry asked.  When Colin nodded in agreement, Harry continued.  “Fred and George have added enchantments to Twister.  We’ve decided to have a game day every Saturday in the Slytherin common room.  You can enjoy Wizard’s Twister, as well as learn how to play other wizard games if you’d like.”

            “Are you sure that your housemates would be okay with that?  I mean, they told me that Slytherin and Gryffindor are supposed to be enemies.”  Now that Colin was no longer stuttering from nerves, Harry could follow what he was saying without any problems.

            Draco cut in at this point.  “We used to be like that, yes.  But, we’ve got people from Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor all coming to play games with us.  Sometimes, we even get Professor Sable to join in.”

            Colin and the rest of the first-year Gryffindors that had been listening in, grinned brightly.  “Let us know when to come, and we’ll be there,” Colin said.  “Would you be willing to sign the photo after I’ve developed it?”

            Harry didn’t get a chance to respond, since a large hand landed on his shoulder.  He looked up into the smiling face of Gilderoy Lockhart, who was ignoring the outraged cries of Harry’s friends.

            “Signed photographs,” he was saying to Colin through his ridiculously shiny teeth.  “Now, Harry, you should approach fame with a more conservative attitude.  Wait until you’ve written a few books, and then hand out signed photographs.”

            “Professor, I wasn’t handing out signed photographs,” Harry protested.  Lockhart, however, appeared to be as deaf as Harry was, and instead, pulled him to his feet and pinned him against his side.

            “Young man, go ahead and take the picture.  A double portrait, can’t do better than that, and we’ll both sign it for you,” Lockhart said through his teeth.  (Harry had a really difficult time understanding Lockhart, when he talked without moving his lips so much.  It was like the man had a constant grin on his face.  Harry definitely wasn’t looking forward to his class.)

            Colin held up his camera and snapped a photo of the two, his hands shaking a little bit.  While Harry had been kind and enthusiastic to be his friend, Lockhart was acting rather bigheaded and stuck up.  The poor first-year was rather intimidated by the professor.

            The bell must have rung, because all over the courtyard, students were gathering together their belongings and moving with their classmates to their different classes.  Lockhart threw an arm around Harry’s shoulders and began to steer Harry towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, barely pausing to let the boy grab his schoolbag.  Harry could see Ron fuming and Pansy glaring daggers into Lockhart’s back.  If looks could kill, Lockhart would be six feet under.  Harry waved at his friends before allowing himself to be led away by the professor, not wanting to cause a scene.

            “A word to the wise,” Lockhart said, causing Harry to crane his neck at an awkward angle to try to see.  “I covered up for you back there with young Creevey—if he was photographing me, too, your schoolmates won’t think you’re setting yourself up so much. . . .”

            Harry tried to protest, but Lockhart ignored every word coming from Harry’s mouth.  So, he decided to give the same treatment to Lockhart and fixed his gaze firmly on the crowds they were passing.  He had no clue what Lockhart said to him, but figured that it wouldn’t be worth remembering anyway.  They reached Lockhart’s classroom and he finally let go of Harry, letting the boy readjust his robes and wince at the tight grip he had had on him.  Secretly, Harry was sure that he had fingerprint bruises on his shoulder.

            Usually, Harry tried to sit closer to the front of a classroom, since it was much easier for him to read his teachers’ lips.  However, he had no desire to be any closer to Lockhart than necessary and found a seat at the back of the classroom.  The rest of the class came clattering in, with the Gryffindor girls sitting in the front row, and the Slytherins taking up the back row.  Ron sat down next to Harry, with Hermione on the other side, still immersed in _Voyages with Vampires_ , her quill in her hand and scribbling madly whenever she found an inconsistency or a falsehood.

            Of course, a majority of the witches in the classroom were giggling over their new professor, gossiping about how attractive he was and such a brave man, too.  Harry rolled his eyes, and stacked his books up to block out the sight of the real Lockhart.  The pictures on the books were almost as bad with all of the smiling and winking they sent Harry’s way.

            Hermione put her book down, when, presumably, Lockhart called for attention.  She began to interpret for Harry, since he still refused to raise his head above the tower of books he had made.

            **“Welcome to another day of Defense Against the Dark Arts.  Today, I have prepared a lesson on what to do if you ever encounter a vampire.  However, before we begin, we have two students that have been skipping classes this past week and they need to take the quiz.  Mr. Potter, Mr. Weasley here is the quiz—nothing to worry about—just to check how well you’ve read my books, how much you’ve taken in—”**

            Lockhart set two thick packets of parchment in front of Ron and Harry and they looked at each other with disgust.  **“While these two boys are taking the quiz, I want the rest of you to read chapters 8-12 of Voyages with Vampires.  You have thirty minutes—start—now!”**

            Harry glanced down at the paper and read:

  1. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s favorite color?
  2. What is Gilderoy Lockhart’s secret ambition?
  3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart’s greatest achievement to date?



            He couldn’t believe the kind of questions that Lockhart had put on the test.  It included questions about what time he liked to go to bed, what his favorite breakfast food was, and went on three sides of paper, ending with:

  1. When is Gilderoy Lockhart’s birthday, and what would his ideal gift be?



            Rather than actually try to answer the questions, Harry decided that he wouldn’t take it seriously.  He wrote rather ridiculous answers, like Lockhart’s favorite color was mustard brown, his secret ambition was to visit Uranus, and his greatest achievement was getting his hair to look nice after a day riding a broom.  Hermione had to keep shushing him, since Harry was snickering as he wrote down the answers.

            Thirty minutes later, Lockhart announced that time was up and collected the two tests from Ron and Harry, and glanced through them Lockhart must have found Harry’s paper, since his face suddenly became very red and very angry.  **“It seems as though Harry didn’t take this test very seriously.  My favorite breakfast food is certainly not the roasted butt of a pig.  And I abhor any shade of brown, let alone mustard brown.  If you are not going to take this seriously, Harry, I will have to give you detention.  I shall let you know when it will be.”**

            He quickly went through and graded the tests, and then handing them back out again.  Harry handed Ron his paper so he could snicker over his answers, while Hermione shot them dirty looks.  It was well worth interrupting the class to make fun of their teacher.

            Hermione elbowed Harry, and the boy watched as she continued to interpret for him.  **“Now, Miss Brown, if you would be so kind as to tell us about my encounter with the dastardly vampire.”**

Lavender got up eagerly and began to tell the tale, but Lockhart was soon interrupting her and correcting little bits of the story as well as adding unnecessary details.  A majority of the students were rather annoyed at their teacher, but Lavender didn’t seem to mind too much, since she was far too starstruck with Lockhart.

            The rest of the class was extremely boring, and Harry took to ignoring what Lockhart was saying as he had done earlier, and pulled out the book on Magical Bonds.  Hermione shot him a dirty look, but stopped interpreting, and focused on going over the notes she had taken on Lockhart’s books.  She was obsessed with proving that Lockhart’s a fraud, and she was constantly reading his books.

            Harry hoped that she succeeded.  Lockhart scared him, and he would prefer to have a year of peace.  When he realized that class was over for the day, he could have yelled with relief, and quickly swept all of his books into his book bag, making sure to jostle Lockhart’s books as much as he could.


	8. Chapter 8

            The next few weeks passed by in relative peace.  Lockhart’s classes didn’t have any hands-on portions, but mainly involved reenacting his supposed great accomplishments.  Harry grew increasingly annoyed with Lockhart, particularly when the man would force Harry to come up for those reenactments.

            Every time Lockhart came near Harry or called him up to the front of the class, Ron’s temper flamed up, and his face would get really red.  He tended to sulk, and kept snapping at everyone until Hermione dragged him up to the hospital wing for a Pepper-Up potion.

            “Blimey, Ron.  Percy bullied Ginny into taking one, sine she’s been looking a bit off color lately.  You could probably use one, too.”  Hermione took off, Ron in tow, while Harry and Draco went out to try out for the Quidditch team.

            Marcus had told Harry that he didn’t need to try out, but the boy showed up anyway, determined to give everyone an equal chance.  Draco had decided that he wanted to try for Chaser and maybe the back-up Seeker, just in case Harry ended up in the hospital wing.  (Unfortunately, that was far too likely.)  Flint had launched the Snitch into the air, and determined that whoever caught it first, was the Seeker for the team.

            It was close, especially since Draco had gotten a Nimbus 2001 for his back to school present.  It was a better broom than Harry’s, but Harry had the advantage of having been Seeker the year before.  Eventually, after a rather dangerous dive, Harry snatched the Snitch from Draco’s fingertips.  The two friends landed, laughing at how close they had been in those last few minutes.

            Draco didn’t hold any hard feelings against his friend, but was impressed with Harry’s flying abilities.  He had never seen anyone fly like that in his whole life, and he was proud to have given Harry some decent competition.

            After the Quidditch try-outs, the two boys met the rest of the Snake Club in the courtyard.  Ron was glaring at Hermione, since Madame Pomfrey had stuffed a vial of Pepper-Up Potion into his hand.  Grumbling about how he was fine and definitely didn’t need to let his mother know anything about his high temper, Ron sat down next to his older brothers.

            The twins, for their part, were busy discussing Quidditch tactics with Oliver Wood, and Marcus Flint joined them a few minutes later.  It was interesting to see the two rival captains acting civilly and even friendly with each other, and Harry had hope that one day, the houses would be completely integrated and any rivalries would only be friendly.

            Hermione was going over some of her notes from Lockhart’s class, especially the bit about werewolves, having figured out that Remus was afflicted with lycanthropy sometime the previous year.  Blaise and Neville were watching with interest, and Pansy chatted quietly with Daphne, Hannah, and Susan.  Theo was patiently teaching Colin how to play Gobstones, instructing him gently when he lost and cheering boisterously when the first-year won.  Luna was off in her own little world, while Ginny was arm wrestling with Millicent, Lee cheering them both on in the background.

            Harry watched all of them interact, feeling extraordinarily happy to have so many friends that supported him.  He had gone from having no friends and hoping that his life would end before he had to endure another day with the Dursleys, to having two loving godfathers, two aunts, and Severus, as well as the multitude of adults and parents of his friends that supported him.  He had a home, a room, and more friends than he could count.

            Harry went and sat next to Hermione, leaning his head on her shoulder as he munched on some dried cranberries.  He watched with interest as she wrote out several facts about werewolves in comparison to what Lockhart claimed.  She always worked with all of her concentration, and didn’t even notice that Harry was sitting next to her.

            There were several older Ravenclaws that wandered into the courtyard, stopping quite suddenly at the sight of the group lounging about.  One of them said loudly, “Look at what we have here.  A bunch of blood-traitors.  I’m sure that several of your parents would like to get letters about this.”

            Blaise glowered at the girl, but everyone else ignored them.  Unfortunately, this just caused the Ravenclaw girl to become angry.  She wanted to get a rise out of these Slytherins that were spending time with people that were below them.  As if sensing the tension in the air, both Hermione and Harry raised their heads to watch the situation unfold.

            “You know, Malfoy, I’m especially surprised at you.  I would have thought your father would have forbidden you to spend time with such worthless scum.  Lowering yourself to the standards of the Weasleys!”  The girl looked absolutely disgusted, and wrinkled her nose as though she had smelled something rotten.  “And look over there, a Mudblood trying to pretend that she belongs in Slytherin.”

            The group gasped, and several of the students leapt to their feet.  Fred and George glowered at her, restrained by Oliver and Flint, and Ron strained against Blaise and Theo.  Harry was confused.  He hadn’t quite caught what the girl had said, but figured it was something rather rude.

            As for Hermione, her lovely ebony skin had paled significantly, and she began to shake a bit next to Harry.  She unconsciously squeezed her hands into fists, crushing a quill in one hand and letting her books drop to the ground.

            Fred spoke up, his voice low and threatening.  “Don’t you ever call anyone that horrible name again,” he said.

            Draco approached the girl straight on.  “You can go ahead and tell my father about all of this, but it won’t change the fact that he is a horrible father, and I would rather spend the rest of my life with these blood-traitors and muggleborns than with him.  Now, don’t ever talk to any of us ever again!”

            The group of older Ravenclaws looked around the courtyard and realized they were outnumbered.  The leader, the one that had said all those horrible things, motioned for the group to head back into the castle.  Once they had disappeared, Oliver, Marcus, Blaise, and Theo released the boys they had been holding.

            “I wish I had cursed her,” Ron growled out.

            Hannah said, “It was a good thing you didn’t, Ron.  Your wand is broken, and who knows what could have happened if you had tried.”

            Ron looked down at his taped-up wand and sighed.  “You’re right, Hannah.  Besides, they probably would have snitched to Filch or McGonagall or someone.  I don’t need more detention, thank you very much.  Polishing Lockhart’s picture frames for four hours was enough to last me until next year.”

            Hermione was still shaking, and Harry watched her with concern.  Her eyes were glassy, almost as though she wasn’t aware of where she was or who she was with.  When Harry touched her hand, she recoiled sharply, banging her elbow against the back of the bench they were sitting on.  Hermione didn’t even seem to notice.

            George walked over, and gently took the girl’s hands, murmuring softly to her.  She seemed to relax slightly at the sound of his voice, though the shaking didn’t subside.  He gently picked her up and took her over to his twin.  Fred accepted Hermione onto his lap and whispered soothing words into her ear while George ran inside.

            Colin spoke up.  “What’s going on?  What does Mudblood mean?”

            The Slytherins all exchanged glances, before Pansy decided to step forward.  “Mudblood is a very crude term for someone that comes from a non-magical family.  It’s incredibly dehumanizing.  Basically, when someone is called a Mudblood, they aren’t even considered to be human.  You-Know-Who believed in this idea, as did a lot of our parents, but we Slytherins have refused to listen to those ideas.  Everyone is equal, and all blood is precious, magical or not.”

            Colin nodded in understanding.  He had heard several horrible words growing up in a poor area, and he understood the meaning behind such insults.  “What about blood-traitor?”

            Theo was the one to answer this question.  “A blood-traitor is someone who is pureblooded, but doesn’t believe in the idea that they’re better.  The Weasleys are considered to be the biggest family of blood-traitors, since all of them love muggles and muggleborns.  They fought in the war against You-Know-Who, and refused to let anything bad happen to their muggle neighbors.  All of us Slytherins here, are either blood-traitors or muggleborns.”

            Harry ignored all of the conversation going around, figuring that his friends were handling any questions better than he could.  Instead, he focused on Hermione, who had yet to stop shaking.  Every time Fred ran his hand up her arm, she clenched her fists tighter, and her eyes took on a pinched look.  It was as though she was in extreme pain.

            He stood up and walked over to the friends.  “Is there anything I can do to help?” he asked Fred softly.

            Fred shook his head, and mouthed, “George is getting a potion to help her.  She’s feeling phantom pains from the Cruciatus Curse from last Halloween.”

            Harry’s eyes widened.  Hermione had told him that there were no lingering affects from the Unforgiveable used on her the year before, and had evidently been hiding these pains from him for almost a year.  Without a doubt, Hermione was one of the strongest people Harry knew, and he ached knowing that she was hurting.

            George came running back into the courtyard, holding a lavender colored potion.  He uncorked it and poured the contents into Hermione’s mouth.  Minutes later, the shivering and shaking stopped, and her eyes cleared.  She nestled her head into Fred’s chest, tears leaking out of her eyes.

            “What happened?” Draco asked softly.

            George looked out over their friends who were all looking on curiously though concerned for Hermione.  He glanced back at the girl on his twin’s lap and Hermione gave a slight nod.  “Well, this isn’t going to be easy, especially for you first-years, but it’s something that you need to understand about our dear Hermione.  Colin, do you remember the story we told you about the troll that attacked Hermione?”

            The first-year nodded solemnly.  It was a rather funny story, but he figured that it wasn’t quite true.

            “We changed the story up.  What really happened, was that someone locked themselves in the bathroom with Hermione and used the Cruciatus Curse on her, calling her a . . . “George couldn’t even bring himself to say the horrible word.  Instead, he continued on with the story.  “Most of you already know what the Cruciatus Curse is, but I think that everyone should be reminded.  It’s a curse that makes the receiver feel enormous amounts of pain.  Every nerve in your body sends a pain message to your brain at the same time.

            “That kind of trauma doesn’t go away quickly.  For nearly a month afterwards, Hermione’s body still sent those pain signals to her brain.  Even wearing clothes hurt her.  Fred and I found her crying in the library one day, and we have been helping her ever since.  Regular pain potions don’t work with that sort of pain, so we had to create our own potion to help her.

            “Even now, when she gets nightmares of that incident, or gets flashbacks, it’s like she’s being cursed again, and we give her the potion.  Those Ravenclaws brought up that memory.”

            Fred was still whispering soothing things into Hermione’s ear, running his fingers through her hair and massaging her scalp.  The rest of her friends looked on in awe.  Blaise was the first to break the silence.

            “You created a potion that counteracted the effects of the Cruciatus Curse?”

            George nodded.

            “No one has ever been able to do that before.  Lots of people used to go to St. Mungo’s for treatment for their residual pains from the curse, and they weren’t ever able to help anyone.  You could earn millions of Galleons for that potion.”

            The twins exchanged a look.  “We’d prefer to give it away for free.  After seeing how horrible it has been for Hermione, we don’t want anyone to have to suffer through those pains and have to pay for the proper treatment,” explained George.

            “That’s understandable,” Theo said.  “But you should at least share your discovery with the Healers or the Ministry.  We know that a war is coming, and that potion will probably save several lives.”

            “That’s a really good idea,” Fred said quietly.  “We haven’t thought much about it besides making sure to always have some in storage for Hermione.”

            “How’d you create it?” Harry asked.

            “We actually combined different affects from different pain potions.  A lot of the pain comes from nerve memory, or the nerves remembering the pain, and thinking that it’s happening again.  And so, we used a soothing affect, combined with a muscle relaxant and calming draught,” Fred said.

            “As well as a little Weasley flair.  As far as we can tell, it reminds you of a memory that brings you comfort.  It also comes with the added benefit of minty breath for the next twelve hours,” George finished.

            “That is brilliant!” Ron exclaimed.  “You’ve got to tell Mum about this!”

            “Woah, Ronniekins.  We don’t want Mum to know about this potion.  We don’t want to be known for creating revolutionary potions.  We want to be known for creating revolutionary joke products.  As Theo said, there is a war coming, and laughs will be in high demand,” said Fred.

            “Don’t tell Mum about it.  We’ll also ask St. Mungo’s and the Ministry to keep our contribution anonymous,” said George.

            “And if we find out any of you squealed on us. . . “

            “We’re going to put the Body-Bind Curse on you.”

            Hermione was finally feeling solid enough that she pushed herself off of Fred’s lap and stood up carefully, one hand bracing herself against the twin’s broad and muscular shoulder.  “Let’s go to the common room,” she said quietly.

            Fred nodded, and motioned towards his twin.  George picked up the petite brunette and gently set her on Fred’s back, before going and collecting her books and notes.  Everyone else followed behind, with Draco catching Harry up on any parts of the conversation that he had missed.

            Hannah and Susan split off towards the Hufflepuff common room, and Luna wandered away, pausing by Hermione and saying, “You’ve got great things ahead of you, Hermione Granger.  You will be instrumental in defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.”  She then said something about going to the library to look for nargles.  Colin looked at the time and darted off, realizing he was late to meet up with some of his friends.  That left Neville, Lee, Ginny, and the twins accompanying the Slytherins to the dungeons.

            Harry watched Hermione carefully.  Her face was slowly gaining more color, but to his amusement, he realized that the girl was fast asleep on Fred’s back.  The ordeal must have completely exhausted her.  In the common room, Regulus was sitting with some of the older students, when the group came through the door.

            “What happened?” he demanded when he realized that Hermione was asleep.

            “Some Ravenclaws decided to call all of us blood-traitors, then insulted Hermione by calling her a Mudblood,” Blaise said quietly so as not to wake up their friend.

            George helped Fred get Hermione situated on a chair near the fire, before turning to their BSL instructor.  “Any time someone calls her that, she goes into a panic attack, and we decided to just bring her back here.  She must have worn herself out.”

            Regulus nodded in response.  He had heard all about the incident last Halloween from Severus, and understood why Hermione had responded in such a way.  “I’m going to go take her up to her room, if one of you girls want to show me which bed is hers.  When I come back, I expect you to tell me who these Ravenclaws were.”

            They nodded, and soon enough, Blaise was telling Regulus about the group that showed up and insulted them all.

            “I will take this information to Professor Snape.  I would recommend that the five of you, head back to Gryffindor tower, and not wander around for the rest of the night,” Regulus said before heading off towards the Head of Slytherin House’s office.

            The Gryffindors didn’t argue, which was a first for them, especially for Fred and George, who never left Hermione’s side if she was struggling.  They figured that it wouldn’t be a good idea to get a detention from either of their teachers that night.

            It wasn’t until the next morning that Hermione woke up and made her way down to breakfast.  Harry greeted her warmly with a hug, warning her that Fred and George had been over to their table four times during breakfast to see if they had heard anything about Hermione.

            She just rolled her eyes and walked over to the red and gold table, where the twins were engrossed in conversation with Lee Jordan and Ginny.  Hermione held a finger to her lips when Lee and Ginny caught sight of her, and looped her arms around the twins’ necks.  They startled, before realizing who was giving them a hug.  The whoop they let out was loud enough that several owls in the owlery woke up.  Hermione returned to the table just in time to see a first-year Hufflepuff give Harry a small scroll.

            Once he had unrolled it, Harry read aloud to all of his friends.  “’Harry, your detention with me will be tonight at eight.  Meet at my office at the appropriate time, and not a moment sooner.  I look forward to our bonding time.  Professor Gilderoy Lockhart, Order of Merlin, Third Class, and the best Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher Hogwarts has ever seen.’  Can you believe him?!” Harry asked bewildered.  He had never met anyone that was as self-centered as Lockhart was.

            **“I do not envy you at all,”** Ron signed.

            Pansy spoke up.  **“Maybe Professor Snape could do something about your detention?  After all, it doesn’t seem fair that he gave you detention for getting the answers wrong on a silly test.”**

            Harry was shaking his head before she even finished speaking.  “No, I’m okay with doing this detention.  After all, I did fail my first test in DADA, which does warrant a detention.”

            No one looked happy about it, but they decided to not argue any more.

 

* * *

 

            That evening, Neville showed up in the common room, ready to play a few games with his friends, but found a rather somber lot.  “What’s going on?” he asked.

            “Sorry, Nev, but I’ve got to get going for my detention with Lockhart.  Maybe you can get this group to do something other than mope around,” Harry said, gesturing to where Draco and Blaise and Theo were sitting in front of the fire, not doing anything.  Hermione and Ron were arguing over an essay he was working on for History of Magic, while Pansy and Daphne were arguing about the best classes to take the next year.  Everyone else was working silently or watching the two arguments.

            Neville, put his hands on his hips, ready to motivate his friends into having fun when Harry left the common room and made his way to Lockhart’s office.  He was not looking forward to detention with the man at all, especially since Lockhart seemed to be under the impression that Harry was his biggest fan.  In his lessons, he always picked Harry for his demonstrations, regardless of where he was sitting or who he was hiding behind.  It was miserable.

            Lockhart had also taken to searching the boy out in the Great Hall or in the hallways, trying to give Harry lessons on fame and celebrity.  His friends glared at the man and tried to sneak Harry away whenever they saw him coming towards the Snake Club.

            The halls of Hogwarts were empty, which was unusual, and extremely quiet, which was usual.  Harry grinned to himself at his little joke.  It had become his favorite past-time to see how many jokes he could make in a day about his loss of hearing, and it had started to annoy his friends.  Fred and George, however, were making similar jokes, and everyone tended to steer clear of the three whenever they were in one of their moods.  However, this particular attempt at humor fell flat for Harry, especially since the hallways were rather creepy at night.

            Outside of Lockhart’s office, Harry took a deep breath and prepared himself for a long, torturous evening.  However, before he could knock, the door swung open, nearly knocking into Harry.

            “Come in!  Come in, Harry, my boy.  I’m sure you’re excited to spend tonight serving your detention with me.  It would definitely be better than anything old Filch could come up with, don’t you think,” the beaming face of Lockhart said rather loudly.  Harry was rather glad he couldn’t hear, for he was sure that the volume that the man was speaking at would cause him to go deaf.

            Reluctantly, Harry followed his professor into the office, where every single inch of wall space was covered by a portrait of Lockhart.  Smiles flashed across the room, hair was being smoothed back into place, and hats perched jauntily on the wizard’s head.  It was extremely difficult for Harry to focus, with all the movement and cluster in the office, and it took him a few minutes before he realized that the real Gilderoy Lockhart was speaking to him.

            “I’m sorry, Professor.  I wasn’t paying attention.  What do you want me to do for detention?”

            “You are going to help me answer my fan mail,” said Lockhart brightly.  He led Harry over to where a stack of envelopes was sitting, and handed the boy a quill and a bottle of bright turquoise ink.  “You can address the envelopes.  This first one’s to Gladys Gudgeon, bless her—huge fan of mine—”

            The hours went by, and Harry was able to ignore Lockhart completely, focusing instead on making sure the envelopes were addressed neatly and that the names were spelled correctly.  It was tedious work, and Harry’s hand began to ache from the frequent use.  In fact, the last time his hands hurt that badly was when Aunt Petunia had him scrub Aunt Marge’s big ballroom with lye.  It left his hands burned and bleeding for several hours afterwards, and all of the nerves in his fingers were damaged.  Thankfully, because of his new Aunt Poppy, he had been able to regain feeling in his fingertips.

            Harry was bored.  It was extremely difficult to not ask his professor for the time every few minutes, but Harry forced himself to be silent for the entire duration of his detention.  Unknown to Harry, though, Lockhart was rather put out.  He was hoping that Harry was taking his advice like “Fame is a fickle friend, Harry,” and “Celebrity is as celebrity does,” seriously.  However, the boy hadn’t even made one noise in response to his talking.

            The candles in the office were burning low, making the light dance and forcing Harry to squint in order to see what he was writing.  He thought to himself, _It must be nearly time to leave.  Please let it be nearly time._

            Just as he was writing out Veronica Smethley’s address, Harry heard something.  He was so startled that his hand jerked across the envelope, causing ink to drip everywhere.  It was extremely faint, but after not being able to hear for five years, any noise stood out.

            “What was that?” Harry asked, startled.

            His sudden question caused Lockhart to jump, before turning to the boy.  “What did you say?”

            “Did you hear anything?”

            Lockhart eyed Harry warily.  “I think you must be a little tired, Harry, my boy.  You must be imagining things.”

            “No, I distinctly heard something,” Harry said.

            His professor, however, ignored this protest, deciding that it was late enough and that Harry should probably be off to bed.  After all, they had been working for nearly four hours.  Lockhart unceremoniously shoved Harry out of his office, and sent the boy off towards the dungeons to go to bed.

            Once in the hallway, Harry reached out with his mind, knowing that Parseltongue was more of a language of the mind than a spoken language.  And since Lockhart hadn’t heard anything, it must have been a snake of some sort.  _“Kaida, is that you?”_

_“There is a speaker_ ,” the voice whispered.

            “ _Who are you?”_

_“I am Nagammai, the mother of snakes.”_

_“I’m Harry, it’s nice to meet you Nagammai.  What are you doing in the castle?”_ Harry asked, curiously.  Kaida often went adventuring into the Forbidden Forest to hunt, though she had promised Harry that she didn’t ever eat any of the centaurs.  She mainly went after the giant spiders that liked to live there.

            _“Sooo hungry.”_

_“There’s a bunch of tasty things out in the forest.”_

_“I must kill.”_   Nagammai’s voice started to get farther away, as though she was traveling through the walls of Hogwarts.

            Harry puzzled over the conversation he had had with a mysterious snake, and decided that he would tell his friends the next day after he sent an owl off to Moony and Padfoot.  He also figured that it would be a good idea if Severus, Aunt Minnie, and Regulus were notified of a snake that was hungry for humans wandering around in the castle.

            However, he was exhausted, it was late and telling everybody could wait until the morning.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING:  
> There is a panic attack in this chapter. Don't read if you are triggered by this kind of thing.

            September passed by quickly, and October was following closely.  Marcus had the Slytherin Quidditch team training as often as the Gryffindor team trained.  It seemed as though the rivalry between the two houses was getting more intense.  However, thanks to a suggestion from Harry and the twins, the two captains occasionally put together practice games, so that no fights broke out between the players.

            Harry decided he rather liked the three Gryffindor Chasers, especially Angelina Johnson.  When George tried to prank her, she immediately told him off, and sent a hex his way, and a second one at Fred for good measure.  It was certainly amusing to watch the twins sneeze bubbles for the next few hours, George and Fred laughing louder than anyone.

            Curiously, since only Harry and Hermione had been able to tell the twins apart, Harry asked Angelina how she knew that George was the one that pranked her.

            “I don’t know.  I’ve always known the difference between the two.  I know George, and because I know him, I know when it’s Fred trying to act like his brother.  Lee’s rather jealous, since he can’t tell the difference, and he asked me about three times a week during our first-year before I hexed him,” Angelina said.

            “I’ve never been able to tell people how I can tell them apart either,” Harry responded.  “And Hermione can’t either.  But the twins can’t pull one over on either of us, so I guess they’ve stopped trying.”

            “You’re lucky.  They still try to catch me off guard.  I think they think it’s hilarious, especially when they try it on me and then try it on first-years.  I love them both, but they’re idiots,” said Angelina with a small smile.

            The weather began to take a worse turn, raining and storming nearly every day.  One such storm had happened during a small game between Gryffindor and Slytherin, though it was quickly called off.  Harry had taken Fluffy outside, deciding that she deserved some time to play around in the mud.  He took off her service vest, and let her grow to full size for the first time in months, and she quickly became covered in mud.  Once Marcus and Oliver decided it would be too dangerous to continue to practice, Harry made his way over to his dog, cleaning her off as best as he could, and placing the vest on her again.

            Fluffy splashed Harry, causing the boy to become covered in mud, just like she was, and joyfully licked her boy’s face.  Harry giggled, shoving one of her faces away while scratching her behind her ears.  “Come on, girl.  Let’s go get cleaned up and get dry.  It’s a bit chilly, you know.”

            The boy and his dog walked into the castle, dripping as they went, and leaving quite the trail of mud behind them.  Harry was giggling at Fluffy’s antics, as she raced around the halls, running up to the few students that were nearby and demanding attention from them.

            It was rather unfortunate that Filch happened upon the trail of mud, and followed it to find the boy he hated.  He was already in a foul mood from having to scrape frog guts off of a dungeon ceiling, and the fact that now there was mud all up and down the halls, made him furious.

            “You, there!  STOP WHERE YOU ARE!”

            Any students nearby scurried far away from the fuming Filch.  Unfortunately, Harry remained blissfully unaware of the angry caretaker behind him, and instead focused on rubbing Fluffy’s belly.  Fluffy, on her part, had decided the year before that Harry didn’t need to be alerted when Filch was talking, since he was so unpleasant to her boy.  In this case, her decision proved to be a mistake.

            “YOU FILTHY MISCREANT!!  DON’T YOU KNOW WHAT YOU’VE DONE?”

            Filch continued to yell, and limped until he was just behind Harry.  He grabbed the boy by the back of his Quidditch robes and hauled him to his feet and whirled him around.

            “HOW DARE YOU IGNORE ME, YOU UNGRATEFUL WRETCH!!  YOU SHOULD BE ASHAMED OF YOURSELF!! YOU’VE MADE A MESS, AND NOW I’M GOING TO HAVE TO CLEAN IT UP!”

            “I’m so sorry, Mr. Filch.  I didn’t think about the mess I was making,” Harry said, his eyes and voice filled with fear.  Those were the very words and names that his relatives had often yelled at him when he stayed with the Dursleys.  “If you’ll show me where a mop is, I’ll start cleaning it up right away.”

            “OH, YOU’LL CLEAN IT UP, YOU WILL!!  ALONG WITH EVERY CORRIDOR IN HOGWARTS BY THE TIME I’M THROUGH WITH YOU!” he shouted angrily.

            He dragged the poor boy along, behind him, the vein standing out in his neck, reminding Harry vividly of Uncle Vernon when he was angry.  Fluffy grew as large as the corridor allowed, letting out three booming barks.  Harry, however, gave her the sign for stay, and she reluctantly shrunk a bit, and sat down, all three pairs of eyes watching her boy closely.

            Harry had never been to Filch’s office, and it was a place he desperately wished he could avoid visiting again.  It did look exactly like the twins had described it, though.  It was dingy and windowless, lit by a single oil lamp hanging from the low ceiling.  A faint smell of fried fish lingered around the place.  Wooden filing cabinets stood around the walls; from their labels, Harry could see that they contained details of every pupil Filch had ever punished.  Fred and George had a whole drawer to themselves, much to Harry’s amusement.  At least, it would have been amusing if Harry’s situation wasn’t so dire.  A highly polished collection of chains and manacles hung on the wall behind Filch’s desk.

            Filch grabbed a quill from a pot on his desk and shuffled around, looking for a spare bit of parchment.  The man was muttering unpleasantly to himself, his face hidden so Harry couldn’t see what was being said.  Finally, he found what he was looking for, and pulled a long roll of parchment out from his desk drawer.  Stretching it out in front of him and dipping his long, black quill into the inkpot, Filch looked up and squinted at the boy standing fearfully in front of him.

            “Name . . . Harry Potter.  Crime . . . “

            Harry flinched at that word, knowing that Filch would have spent several more hours scrubbing the mud off of the floor all the way from the front door.

            It seemed as though Filch read his mind, for he said next, “It’s only a bit of mud to you, boy, but to me it’s an extra hour of scrubbing.  Crime . . . befouling the castle.  Suggested sentence . . . mopping the floors of the hallways every night for a month.”

            Harry’s eyes widened.  He had hoped that he wouldn’t have to clean so vigorously once he had left the Dursleys for good, but here he was, being forced to clean fifty times more space than at Privet Drive.

            “I’ll just head over to Professor Snape’s office to get this approved, and then you’ll be mine every night for the next month,” Filch said with an evil smile on his face.  “You stay here and wait until I come back.”

            Filch scurried out of the room, and Harry moved to a corner, farther away from the light.  Filch’s angry words echoed in his head, the foul lips repeating the words.  “UNGRATEFUL WRETCH!”  “HORRIBLE BOY!”  Filch changed to Uncle Vernon.  “DISGUSTING MONGREL!”  “WORTHLESS!”  “UNGRATEFUL!”  “FREAK!”  His breath grew heavier, his heart racing.  The light seemed to grow dimmer, and Harry sat down on the floor, rather than risk falling.

            A memory swam into focus, overtaking all of his senses.  He could see Aunt Petunias long neck craning down at him as she told him to scrub the kitchen floor.  On his hands and knees, he dipped the scrub brush into the lye mixture.

            Back and forth. . .

            Up and down. . .

            Dudley came into view. . .

            Mud everywhere. . .

            Start again. . .

            Scrub. . .

            Dip. . .

            Scrub. . .

            Dip. . .

            He could feel his hands beginning to burn from the lye, but he paid no attention to it.  It just became part of his single focus.

            Scrub. . .

            Dip. . .

            Pain. . .

            Scrub. . .

            Dip. . .

            Pain. . .

            Breathe. . .

            Cold. . .

            His lungs seemed to be contracting, and liquid dripped onto his newly washed floor.  He scrubbed at the drips, but they just seemed to keep coming.  Maybe Dudley was messing with him.  Maybe there was a leak in the plumbing that he would have to fix.  Maybe Uncle Vernon was breathing down his neck, or Aunt Petunia was scolding him.

            He ignored it all, scrubbing until his hands and arms bled.  And still, there were drips.  Clear.  Red.  Clear.  Clear.  Red.  Red.  Clear.

            Hands came into view, gently grabbing his own.  He pulled away, hissing in pain.  He had to keep cleaning.  He didn’t want his uncle to beat him again.  He didn’t want to be locked in his little cupboard without a light for weeks on end.  He didn’t want to go without food.

            Red drops intermingled with the clear, creating a pool.

            Red.  Clear.  Red.  Clear.  Turns pink.

            Ice cold.  Flickering light.  Was it nighttime already?

            Didn’t matter.  He didn’t get to sleep until he was done.

            The light flickered again, and the floor seemed to becoming a darker color.  Not the white that his aunt insisted on.  Harry swore under his breath and scrubbed harder.

            He felt something touch his face.  Something cool and soft.  He hadn’t felt that before.  He wasn’t allowed to touch anything soft.  And he certainly didn’t own a handkerchief.

            Crying.  He was crying.  That’s what those clear drops were.  The floor blurred.  He sobbed.  It tore at his throat.  He coughed.  More blood.

            A hand was rubbing his back.  Soothing his clenched muscles.  Something cold touched his forehead.  Harry looked up into black eyes.  Aunt Petunia’s eyes weren’t black, they were blue.  So were Uncle Vernon’s and Dudley’s.  Did he know anyone with black eyes?

            The mouth was moving, but Harry couldn’t focus enough to try to understand what was being said.  A few words came through.  “Alright.”  “Harry.”  “It’s okay.”  “safe.”  “Breathe.”

            Severus.  That’s who had black eyes.  But Severus was at Hogwarts.  He didn’t know him yet.  Harry was still living with the Dursleys.  A small voice in the back of his mind spoke up.  _If you don’t know Severus yet, how do you know that you’ll meet him?  How do you know about Hogwarts?_

Harry focused more on the black eyes so filled with concern in front of him.  “Severus?  Why are you here?” he mumbled through numb lips.

            “I’m here to help you,” Severus said.

            “You’d better leave.  Don’t want the Dursleys to catch you here.”

            The black eyes flickered.  The lips moved, saying something about getting a Weasley.

            Harry’s thoughts raced, trying to make sense of what was going on.  Severus and anyone named Weasley hadn’t come into his life until after the Dursleys.  He met them at Hogwarts.  Ron, George, Fred, Ginny, and Percy were all Weasleys.

            The room swam into focus, and Harry was able to look past his guardian.  The room was small, just like his cupboard, though that space was even smaller and didn’t have a lamp.  There certainly weren’t any chains or manacles in his cupboard.

            Harry shook his head.  He needed to get rid of the fog in his mind; he needed to think clearly.  Slowly, he realized where he was and remembered the events that led up to being in that tiny room with the chains on the wall.  “I’m at Hogwarts,” he said slowly.  “I was at Quidditch practice.  There was a storm.  Fluffy was outside with me.  I made a mess and got detention from Filch.  I’m in Filch’s office.”

            Harry’s body was shaking, but he was able to focus on what was going on around him.  Snape was looking at Harry with great concern, Sir Nicholas floating behind him, with Filch glowering at his desk.

            “Are you alright, Harry?” Severus asked.

            Harry nodded.  “I’m not really sure what just happened.  But I think I’m okay,” Harry said quietly.

            “You must have had a panic attack.  You were crying and scraping at the floor when Sir Nicholas came and found me.”

            Again, Harry nodded, not really sure what else to say.  A panic attack made sense, especially since he had recently witnessed Hermione have one.  “I’m sorry.”

            “For what?” Severus asked, his face full of shock.

            “I didn’t mean to take up your time.  You were probably doing something important.”

            Severus placed a hand on Harry’s shoulders, forcing green eyes to meet black.  “You are always important, Harry James Potter.  I don’t care if I’m in the middle of a meeting with the Minister of Magic and all of Wizengamot, I will come if you need me.  Now, let’s get you off to Madame Pomfrey.  She needs to take a look at your injuries.”

            Harry mumbled, “What about Fluffy?”

            “We’ll send Ron to fetch her and bring her up to the hospital wing.  Come on, up you stand.”  Severus easily lifted the boy to his feet, and guided him out the doorway.  Sir Nicholas floated along behind, concerned for the well-being of this little student.  As a ghost, he had been around Hogwarts for over five hundred years, and had seen his fair share of abused children.  He was always concerned about them, though, and strove to make sure they had at least one friend in Sir Nicholas.  Filch remained his office, grumbling about the blood he would have to clean up in addition to the mud.

            When the strange group arrived at the hospital wing, Madame Pomfrey was shocked.  Harry was covered in mud and blood, his clothes still dripping from the horrible rainstorm raging outside.  She rushed to get a bed ready, and helped Severus guide the little boy onto the bed.  She cast a quick cleaning spell, followed by a drying spell so she could properly see where her boy was injured.

            The tips of Harry’s fingers were nearly worn to the bone.  She let out a gasp at the sight, setting about pouring potions down Harry’s throat.

            After a particularly nasty blood replenishing potion, Harry murmured out, “Sorry Aunt Poppy.  Didn’t mean to get hurt.”

            The medi-witch looked at her colleague with horror.  “Severus, what happened?”

            “I do believe that Sir Nicholas would be better suited to answer that question,” responded Severus in a weary voice.

            “Harry and his dog were coming in from outside, and were covered in mud.  Of course, his dog was rather excited, and was bouncing all around as dogs are want to do.  I saw Filch begin yelling at the boy in the hallway.  Of course, everyone knows that Harry Potter is deaf, and so, when Harry didn’t respond, Filch got angrier.  Harry offered to clean up his mess, and Filch just grabbed his arm and dragged him down to his office.

            “I followed at a distance, knowing that Filch was in a rather rotten mood.  I was just contemplating getting Peeves to create a disturbance so Harry could escape, when I saw Filch leave his office, one of his horrible detention slips trailing after.”  Sir Nicholas paused to take a breath, ignoring the thoughts that told him ghosts didn’t need to breathe.

            “I decided that I should check on young Harry here, and found him in the corner of Filch’s office, crying and scraping the ground.  Blood was pouring out from his hands, and I knew I had to be fast.  I tried to get his attention, but nothing seemed to work.  I even touched him, but it was like he didn’t even realize where he was.  Professor Snape’s office was closest, and I knew that Harry cared for him, and I figured he would know how to help the boy.  When I arrived, I found Filch trying to get Professor Snape to sign the detention form.  I told him what was going on, and it took us awhile to get through to Harry.

            “The floor in Filch’s office was quite rough, and it was covered in the boy’s blood.  He was still scraping at the floor, without even realizing what he was doing, I think.  I’m just concerned that his hands will get infected,” finished Sir Nicholas.

            Madame Pomfrey was pale, but she hurried to fetch a few more potions out of her office.  A few more incantations, and Harry’s fingers started to regrow the muscles, tendons, and skin that had been torn off.  It was incredibly painful, but Harry didn’t even flinch.

            “How are you doing, piccolo?” she asked, kneeling down to be in Harry’s line of sight.

            “I’m fine, Aunt Poppy.  My hands feel much better, thank you.  I’m sorry if I worried you.”

            “Oh, piccolo, you have nothing to be sorry for.  It’s Mr. Filch that should be sorry.  I’ve been saying it for years, but that man should not be around children.  He has got to go,” huffed Madame Pomfrey.

            “I completely agree.  Though, I doubt that Dumbledore will go along,” Severus responded.

            “You’re probably right, Severus.  But in the meantime, I might enlist the Weasley twins to play as many pranks on him as they can.  They can cause some serious damage, those two can,” said Madame Pomfrey with a mischievous glint in her eyes.

            Severus chuckled while Sir Nicholas let out a belly-jiggling laugh.  “That they can,” the ghost said.  “You should have seen the look on Professor Sinistra’s face, when they took over her Astronomy lesson for some romantic stargazing.  She wasn’t quite sure what to do.”

            Sir Nicholas was about to float away, before he turned back to Harry.  Madame Pomfrey moved to the side so the ghost could take her place, though he was careful not to touch the poor boy.  “Harry, I was wondering if you would mind coming to my 500th Deathday Party.  It’s on Halloween in the biggest dungeon.  I would be honored if you would come, as well as all of your friends.”

            “I think I would like that,” Harry said.  “And I’ll make sure to pass along your invitation.  Is there anything I can bring?”

            “Oh no, my dear boy.  Just make sure you eat something before you come down.  I doubt that any food that ghosts provide will be appetizing to you.”

            Harry nodded, a small smile appearing on his face.  “Thank you for the invitation, Sir Nicholas.  I’m excited to see what a deathday party is like.”

            It was then that Hermione and Ron burst into the hospital wing, with Ron holding desperately to Fluffy’s leash as the Cerberus tried to get to her little master, and Draco and Neville following behind.  “Harry!” they all cried.  Severus moved off to the side, close enough that he could still keep an eye on his little child while not interfering with the friends.  He glowered as he thought about what Filch had done to his boy.  Yes, the Weasley twins would do a good job of punishing the cantankerous caretaker.

 

* * *

 

            Two days later, Harry’s hands were finally out of their bandages, though the skin was still tender.  His friends had all agreed to go to the deathday party, as long as they could have a little of the Halloween feast before going.  The twins were especially excited about it, as well as Daphne, surprisingly, and Theo, unsurprisingly.  (Theo liked to explore different cultures and try new things ever since Harry had introduced him to the muggle Olympics.  It wasn’t uncommon for him to snack on some exotic food or read in a different language.  Ghosts were just a different kind of culture.)  Ron was a lot less excited.  He loved food, and had really enjoyed the spread the year before, at least before Quirrell came running into the Great Hall screaming about a troll.

            “I’ll come,” he said grumpily.  “Just as long as nothing weird happens this year.  I want to enjoy my Halloween for once.”

            The Slytherins all agreed.  They all wanted to have a nice, quiet holiday, full of fun and ghosts.  Draco, however, brought up a question that Harry hadn’t considered.

            “What do we get for a ghost for his deathday party?”

            Hermione went to the library, looking for an answer.  Blaise wrote home, as did Ron.  Harry, however, decided to go to the best source.  The Fat Friar, the ghost of Hufflepuff House.

            “I heard that you were going to Sir Nicholas’s deathday party,” said the Fat Friar.  “It’s not very often that anyone living is invited to a deathday party.  He must really like you and your friends.”

            “Well, I really like him.  We all do.  And we all want to get him something.  After all, it’s not everyday that it’s the five hundredth anniversary of your death,” Harry responded.

            The Fat Friar thought for a moment.  “I can think of a few things that he might want.  Acceptance into the Headless Hunt.  He was going on and on about their rejection letter a few weeks ago.  ‘Forty-five whacks to the neck, but a sliver of skin is preventing me from joining the Headless Hunt,’” he said in a decent imitation of Sir Nicholas.  “But any ghost would love to have something they can touch.  No ghost can get it for them, it has to come from someone living.  It is the greatest gift he could receive.”

            Harry looked intrigued.  “How do we get something that a ghost can touch?”

            “Well, it is a difficult process, and it would require a great deal of research.  You must find something metal that the ghost touched while he was still alive, and use three drops of your own blood mixed with the essence of belladonna to pour over the metal.  It also has to be done on the night of a new moon, which is only three days away,” said the Fat Friar.

            Harry thanked the kind ghost and wandered away, thinking hard.  There were very few metal objects that Sir Nicholas could have touched while he was still alive and survived five hundred years.  Not to mention, there was also the time limit.  Three days until the new moon, or he had to wait until after the deathday party to give his gift to Sir Nicholas.

            A sudden idea hit Harry.  The axe.  It was on display in one of the magical museums in Diagon Alley and was one of the few things that definitely touched Sir Nicholas while he was still alive.  Harry skipped off towards Professor McGonagall’s office, a plan forming in his mind.

 

* * *

          

            The day of Halloween was filled with excitement.  Fred and George had set off some of Dr. Filibuster’s Fireworks in the Entrance Hall as entertainment, causing Filch to be in a sore mood all day, though he had been rotten ever since the incident with Harry.

            (Dumbledore had refused to fire Filch, and so, Professor Snape enlisted the talents of the two prankster extraordinaires at the school to inflict as much damage on the caretaker as possible.  They even went so far as to convince the house elves to not help the man clean.  (They were very protective of the students, especially Harry, and hated Filch especially.  The house elves were more than willing to ignore any messes for the time being.)  Unknown to anyone but the twins and Lee, Hermione was the mastermind behind several of their more advanced pranks.  She took their ideas, and made them much more affective.  No one was allowed to injure her friends and get away with it, and she used her anger to show no mercy on Filch.)

            The Great Hall was decorated with live bats and giant pumpkins that Hagrid grew out in his garden.  There were a few that could easily fit four men inside, with room to spare.  Peeves chucked boxes of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavor Bean at students.  They quickly learned to not eat them though, since Peeves had taken out all of the good flavors and left the rotten ones in the box.  George and Lee had spent the entire day collecting the boxes from students.  Just before the Halloween feast began, the dumped all of the collected beans onto the floor of the Entrance Hall, creating a giant mess, and making Filch even angrier.

            The students thrived on the chaos of the holiday, rejoicing and laughing and having fun, just as Halloween was meant to be celebrated.  In the center of all the chaos, was Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived and defeated the Dark Lord eleven years ago.  It was a bit of a hard day for Harry.  He had sent an owl with Honeyduke’s chocolate for Remus, and a case of Butterbeer from the Three Broomsticks for Sirius (provided by Fred and George).  It was the day they had lost two of their best friends.  It was a day to be mourned, not celebrated.

            Harry was valiantly trying to remain positive, but all of his friends saw right through the mask he had placed over his emotions, but didn’t call him out on it.  Instead, they rallied around Harry, trying to distract him from the relevance of the day.

            By the time, the feast had begun, Harry was feeling quite a bit better, and even laughed at the colored mess outside of the Great Hall.  He was even able to chuckle at Filch’s face, mottled purple and red from anger, but not able to do anything about it.  The caretaker was only able to shake his fist up at Peeves and yell at the poltergeist.

            Harry fingered the little box that was his gift to Sir Nicholas.  Draco and Blaise had helped Harry get the funds to melt a bit of the axe.  Aunt Minnie had gone to collect the bit of metal, and had delivered it to the boys the day before the new moon.  George and Fred had helped Harry to sneak out and avoid getting caught in order to finish the ritual.  He could only hope that it had worked.

            The piece of metal had been melted into the shape of the Gryffindor crest, which Harry thought was fitting.  After all, Sir Nicholas was the ghost of Gryffindor Tower, and had a special place in his heart for any little lions that came through the halls of Hogwarts.

            Harry could hardly eat any of the delicious food, so excited was he to give his gift to the ghost.  Instead, he was entertaining himself by charming small bits of fruit to float up for the bats to snack on.  Sometimes, he made the bats chase a piece of mango, just to see how far they’d chase the food. 

            Minerva watched this with a small smile on her face.  Her boy was quite talented, and used that talent to help others and make them feel welcome.  It wasn’t long before other students were following Harry’s example, and the bats darted around, enjoying the food that was given to them.  All too soon, she stood up and made her way over to the Slytherin table, where Fred and George and Lee were making up stories for the younger students.

            Severus and Minerva had decided that it would be best if the students that were invited to Sir Nicholas’s deathday party were escorted, especially since Harry had received that warning from Dobby and then heard that mysterious voice.  She had drawn the short straw and was going to take the group down to the dungeons during the dinner.  Millicent had politely declined the invitation, as had Colin, Ginny, Luna, Hannah, Lee, Blaise, and Susan, preferring to stay up and enjoy the Halloween feast.

            The passageway leading to Nearly Headless Nick’s party had been lined with candles, though the effect was far from cheerful.  These were long, thin, jet-black tapers, all burning bright blue, casting a dim, ghostly light even over their own living faces.  Fred and George cheered the group up a bit by making faces in the spooky light.

            Every step down into the dungeons caused the temperature around them to drop.  Harry shivered, glad that he had decided to wear the jumper Mrs. Weasley had given him, and burrowed a little deeper into the thick warmth it provided.  Ron noticed this, and scooted a little closer to offer his own body heat to Harry.

            On the other side of Harry, Theo was wincing.  He turned to his friend and said, “Be glad you can’t hear, Harry.  I’m pretty sure they think they’re playing music, but it sounds more like nails on a chalkboard.”

            Harry gave a chuckle.  He could feel the vibrations of the music through the air, and it was definitely not something that he ever wanted to hear.

            The group of students turned a corner and saw Nearly Headless Nick standing in the doorway hung with black drapes.

            “My dear friends,” the ghost said with a mournful expression.  “Welcome, welcome . . . so pleased you could come . . . “  He swept off his plumed hat and bowed elegantly, much to the amusement of Professor McGonagall.

            George and Fred pushed forward where they bowed equally as dramatically, greeting their House Ghost.  “Sir Nicholas, it is wonderful to see you this fine evening,” Fred said poshly.

            “My dear deceased man, how lovely to see you.  I must say, we were positively chuffed to receive your invitation to come to your deathday party,” George added.

            McGonagall shook her head at the twins, their shenanigans extremely familiar to her.  **“Go on, enjoy the party.  Professor Snape will be by to escort you back to your dorms in about an hour,”** she said stiffly.  She patted Harry on his arm.  **“Stay by Mr. Weasley, tonight.  And try to not walk through any ghosts; we don’t want you getting ill from being too cold.”**

“I’ll be fine, Aunt Minnie.  Now go enjoy the feast.  And don’t forget to eat a pumpkin pasty for me,” Harry said with a grin.

            The matronly woman smiled back at her boy, before sweeping back up the stairs towards the Great Hall.  Harry turned back as Ron tugged his arm through the black curtains.  Hermione was huddled nearby with Draco and Theo crowding next to her.  They were shivering, but looked around with excitement.  The twins were bouncing around the dungeon, greeting the various ghosts, and exchanging a complicated-looking handshake with Peeves.  (It was no secret that Fred and George got along well with the poltergeist.)  Pansy and Daphne stayed near Ron and Harry, their cloaks wrapped tightly around their small frames, with Neville standing in between them.

            Harry looked around the dungeon in awe.  It was an incredible sight.  The dungeon was full of hundreds of pearly-white, translucent people, mostly drifting around a crowded dancefloor, waltzing to music Harry was glad he couldn’t hear.  There was an orchestra, playing what looked like thirty musical saws, sitting on a raised platform.  A chandelier overhead was draped in midnight blue cloth, a thousand more black candles illuminating the room.

            With the number of ghosts in the room, it was no wonder that the room felt like they had just stepped into an icebox or was dropped into the Black Lake in the middle of winter.  Harry shivered and huddled closer to Ron, who put his arm around his tiny friend.  He was already shivering violently, and the heat that his best friend provided was welcomed.

            “Let’s take a look around before we give Sir Nicholas his present,” Harry suggested quietly.  His friends nodded, and they began to wander through the crowd of ghosts.  Many of them were from Hogwarts, and would call out greetings to the students, sometimes stopping and chatting with them about their classes and coursework.  When the Fat Friar found them, Harry murmured a thanks to the ghost for his idea for Sir Nicholas’s present.  The Bloody Baron greeted them mournfully, before drifting away, the other ghosts giving him a wide berth.

            Pansy and Daphne suddenly stiffened as they spotted the ghost of a girl with large round glasses.  “Oh no!  It’s Moaning Myrtle!  Quick let’s go someplace else; I don’t want to talk to her,” Daphne said frantically.  She and Pansy disappeared into the sea of ghosts, dragging Neville along behind them.

            The girl floated closer and Harry could see that she was crying.  “Hello, I don’t think I’ve seen you in the castle before.  What’s your name?” said Harry politely.

            “I’m Myrtle, but everyone calls me Moaning Myrtle,” the ghost replied.  Harry managed to get most of the words she was saying, but had to glance to Ron for help a couple of times.

            “Why would they call you Moaning Myrtle?”

            “It’s who I am.  Weeping . . . wailing . . . moping . . . moaning Myrtle,” she sobbed out.

            “It’s not nice of other people to define who you are.  You shouldn’t listen to them.  I happen to think you’re rather wonderful,” said Harry honestly.  He had yet to meet a ghost that he didn’t like, though he had met several people that fell under that description.

            “That’s really kind of you,” Myrtle said, wiping her eyes.  “What’s your name?”

            “I’m Harry and this is my best friend, Ron.  Do you stay in the castle?”

            Myrtle nodded eagerly.  “I died in the girls’ bathroom on the second floor, and have been haunting it ever since.  Though, I did haunt Olive Hornby for a while, until the Ministry made me come back here.  She deserved it though, for teasing me about my glasses.”  She began to wail again.

            “That’s horrible!  I am so sorry that this Olive teased you,” said Harr quietly.  He was thinking of the many people that had hurt him over the years.  “It’s never nice to make fun of someone else.  You should have seen the trouble my cousin got into for bullying kids at my primary school.  But my aunt and uncle always wrote off his bullying as the other kids not understanding him.”

            “I think I like you, Harry.  You’re nice,” Myrtle said rather shyly.  “If you’d like, you should come visit me, sometime.  I’m sure we could be great friends.”

            “I’d like that, Myrtle.  I really would,” Harry responded.  “Now, have you seen Sir Nicholas?  My friends and I got him a present, and I want to give it to him.”

            Myrtle pointed in the direction of a buffet table.  Ron’s eyes lit up at the idea of food and began to drag his friend towards the table.  Harry turned and waved at Myrtle, who waved back rather solemnly.

            When they reached the buffet table, though, Harry had to fist his cloak over his nose and mouth.  Large, rotten fish were laid on handsome platters; cakes burned charcoal black were heaped on salvers; there was a maggoty haggis and a slab of cheese covered in furry green mold.  In the center, stood a cake in the shape of a tombstone, the cake as grey as the dark walls.  Black, tar-like icing wrote out the words:

Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington

Died 31st October, 1492

            Ron and Harry watched as a ghost approached the table, crouched low, and walked through it, his mouth held wide so that it passed through one of the stinking salmon.

            “Can you taste it if you walk through it?” Ron asked curiously.

            “Almost,” said the ghost sadly, and he drifted away.

            “I expect they let it rot to give it more flavor,” said Harry through his cloak that he still held over his mouth and nose.  “Come on, let’s gather everyone so we can give Sir Nicholas his present.”

            Rather than walk through the crowd of ghosts, Ron decided to bellow out his friends’ names, causing all of the ghosts to turn to look at them.  Harry blushed bright red, and hid the rest of his face in his cloak, not wanting to be the center of attention.  Ron tugged the cloak down, and motioned to the rest of their friends that had gathered.

            “It was your idea, mate, you give it to him,” said Ron.

            Harry turned towards their host and spoke as loudly as he could.  “Sir Nicholas, you have done so many wonderful things for this castle, and it wouldn’t be the same without you in it.  I personally want to thank you for helping me when Filch caught me not to long ago.  I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been able to get Severus so quickly.

            “Anyway, my friends and I wanted to give you something.  The Fat Friar gave me the idea, and Aunt Minnie, Draco, and Blaise helped me get it.  It’s from all of us.”

            Harry stuck his hand into his pocket and pulled out the little box that held the trinket.  Harry opened it up and held it out to his host.  “Go on, pick it up,” Hermione said encouragingly.

            Sir Nicholas’s hand shook as he reached out to the trinket.  It had been molded into the shape of the Gryffindor crest, the lion prominent on the shield.  They had painted it with red and gold, using magical paint that would never come off.  The ghost touched the crest, and quickly withdrew his hand in shock, his eyes widening.

            “It’s a touchable,” he said softly.  He picked it up out of the box and examined it closely, running his fingers along the edges and just admiring the way it felt.  “You have no idea how much this means to me.  I’ve gone five hundred years without being able to properly touch anything.  This is the most wonderful gift you could have given me.”

            The ghosts watched in awe, some murmuring about the strange, living kids that had created such a rare item for their friend.  Harry blushed even more, now that they were all eyeing him, specifically.  He hadn’t wanted to make a scene, or make a speech, but he had, and, by the looks of it, Sir Nicholas greatly enjoyed their gift.

            Out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw all of the ghosts turn towards the wall next to the orchestra.  Several horses came galloping through, tossing heads around.  Each rider was missing their head, and the Fat Friar’s comment a few days ago, suddenly made sense to Harry.

            **These guys must be the Headless Hunt,** signed Harry to his friends.  **They won’t let Sir Nicholas join because he’s got a sliver of skin holding his head on.**

            The horses galloped into the middle of the dance floor, where they all stopped, rearing and plunging.  At the front of the pack was the spectre of a large man, who held his bearded head underneath one arm, from which a horn was protruding from his mouth.  Harry assumed that he was blowing the horn, from the vibrations around him.  The ghost leapt down off of his horse, and lifted his head high above the crowd and he strode through the other ghosts.  He made a beeline for Sir Nicholas, and when he reached the Gryffindor ghost, rammed his head back onto his neck.

            “Nick!” he roared.  “How are you?  Head still hanging in there?”  The ghost gave a hearty guffaw and slapped Sir Nicholas on the back.

            “Welcome, Patrick,” said Sir Nick stiffly.

            Sir Patrick turned and spotted the group of Slytherins and Gryffindors.  “Live ’uns,” he yelled, pretending to jump back in shock.  His head fell off of his shoulders, much to the amusement of the crowd.  Fred and George sniggered quietly, while Pansy and Draco painted on smirks.

            “Very amusing,” said Sir Nicholas darkly.

            “Don’t mind him,” came the response from the floor.  (Hermione was interpreting everything, so Harry was able to keep up.)  “He’s just upset that we won’t let him join the Headless Hunt!  But I mean. . . look at the fellow. . . “

            Harry tore his eyes away from Hermione’s hands and glared at the boisterous ghost.  “I happen to think that Sir Nicholas is rather incredible, and I won’t allow you to insult one of my friends,” he scolded the head that was still lying on the ground.

            “I bet he told you to say that,” said Sir Patrick as he picked his head up.

            Sir Nicholas stepped in between Harry and the ghost, before anything happened that Harry would surely regret.  Very deliberately, he reached up with one hand holding the crest and the other grabbing his head.  With one quick slice, he cut through the last thread of skin, and his head popped clean off.  Sir Nicholas glared at Sir Patrick.  “I am now qualified to join the Headless Hunt, but my friend, Harry, here, has reminded me that I can do a lot of good staying here.  I am the Ghost of Gryffindor House, and I will stay in this castle until it crumbles around me.  Good friends are far more important than having a completely severed head.”

            Harry was watching Hermione’s hands closely, all throughout Sir Nicholas’s speech, and began to clap loudly for his friend.  “Well said, Sir Nicholas!” he cried.  The rest of his friends joined in, followed closely by the ghosts of Hogwarts and then the rest of the ghostly guests.  There was a reason why Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington was rather popular, and they were rather proud of his declaration.

            Sir Patrick scowled at the group, and stalked back through the crowd to his horse.  Without another word, he and the rest of the Headless Hunt rode back through the walls, off to play their head games someplace else.

            The Gryffindor ghost turned to the living students.  “I would have liked to give a proper speech, but I have a feeling that the impromptu one was far better.  It looks like Professor Snape is here to escort you back to your own holiday festivities.  Thank you all for coming, and thank you so much for my gift.  It means so much to me,” he said.

            “See you around, Sir Nick,” called the twins, and Harry waved cheerily back at his various ghostly friends.

            It was rather difficult to put one foot in front of the other, however, due to the numbness Harry felt in his feet.  He was so cold, and even Ron’s warmth wasn’t making any difference anymore.  His teeth were chattering, and he was shaking violently.  Ron put his arm around his friend, trying to warm him up as best as he could, while Neville pressed in on the other side.  Neville was the other person in the Snake Club that tended to run hot, and so he offered his body heat to their small friend.


	10. Chapter 10

            Severus Snape watched as his snakes and lions made their way through the ghosts over to him.  He noticed how badly Harry was shaking and watched as Ron and Neville surrounded him in their body heat.  _It would have been a good idea to teach him a Warming Charm_ , Severus thought to himself.  But it was too late, and Harry needed a night in front of the large fire in the Slytherin common room and something warm to drink.  Fred and George were still bouncing around, obviously excited to be around so many ghosts at once.  They caught a few of the moldy peanuts that Peeves had thrown at them, and tossed them back at the pesky poltergeist, laughing loudly as he blew raspberries at the twins.  Snape just shook his head in disgust.  He could never understand how anyone thought jokes and pranks were funny.

            Snape led the group of students out of the dungeons, dropping those that didn’t want to go back to the Great Hall at the Slytherin common room.  Theo and Draco claimed to be worn out, as did Pansy and Daphne.  Neville headed off in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, wobbling a little as his feet unthawed.

            George and Fred headed back to the Great Hall, ready to pull more pranks on an unsuspecting caretaker before the night was through.  Harry decided that he wanted to try to eat a little more food, since he hadn’t had all that much to eat at the feast.  Ron and Hermione followed, concerned for their friend, and determined to take care of him.

            Not long after he finished a small mug of hot cocoa, Harry nodded off, his head leaning against Hermione’s arm.  She laughed a little, as the boy let out tiny little snores, unconcerned with the world around him.  Ron finished eating soon after, having stuffed his face full with anything within reach, and Hermione went to shake Harry awake.

            She needn’t have bothered, however, as he shot upright, letting out a shout.  He looked around wildly, trying to find out what had woken him up.

            **Harry?  Are you alright?** Hermione asked.  She was a little worried that he had had a nightmare, and he might need Fred and George to help calm him down.

            Harry wasn’t paying attention.  Instead, he was focusing on something tickling in the back of his mind.  He stood up, following the feeling out of the Great Hall and past the twins as they lobbed an enchanted ball back and forth.  He kept walking, going up the Grand Staircase to the second floor and that was when he heard it.

            _“So hungry . . . kill . . . need to kill . . . “_

Ron and Hermione had followed Harry the entire way, and when he abruptly stopped, they almost ran into the boy.

            “Did you guys hear that?”

            His friends looked confused.  “Hear what?” Ron asked.

            _Oh, Parseltongue,_ Harry thought.  “It’s the voice that I told you guys about.  The one that heard while I was in detention with Lockhart.”

            **The mother of snakes?** Hermione signed.

            Harry nodded.  “She says that she needs to kill, that she’s hungry.  We need to find her before something bad happens.”

            He turned down a corridor, ignoring the water that was seeping across the floor and soaking his trainers.  They turned a corner, and Harry stopped in his tracks.

            There was a dark message on the wall, but he wasn’t focused on that.  Instead, he was focused on the creature hanging from the torch bracket.  As he got closer, Harry realized that it was Mrs. Norris, stiff and cold.

            “It’s Filch’s cat,” he whispered.

            Harry raised his wand, and worked on getting the knot of rope undone.  He couldn’t just leave her like that, regardless of how deeply he disliked the cat and hated her master.  It wasn’t right to let any animal suffer.

            He was so focused on his task, that Harry didn’t realize that there were students coming down the halls, stopping in shock when they saw the message that Harry had yet to pay attention to.  Unfortunately, everyone else saw it, and many were gasping.

            Harry gently laid the cat on the ground, before turning to go find Professor Snape.  He didn’t even get a chance to register the students gathered in the corridor before he was slammed against the wall.  Harry let out a gasp of air, the breath knocked out of his lungs.  His eyes were wide as he stared into the cold black of Argus Filch’s eyes.  The caretaker had one hand around his throat, and Harry found that he couldn’t breathe.  His lungs were burning from the lack of oxygen, and he pounded weakly against the hand wrapped around his neck.

            The world was starting to go black when the hand was pulled away, and Harry dropped to the floor, wheezing and gasping in great lungfuls of air.  His hand went to his neck, massaging the pain that was still present.

 

* * *

 

            When Hermione and Ron had turned the corner into the hallway, they did not expect to see the bloody message painted on the wall. 

**THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED**

**ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE**

            It was chilling, and Hermione let out a squeak of terror.  She gripped her wand tighter, her eyes sweeping the hallway for any sign of danger.  The writing on the wall was a threat, and she refused to let anyone hurt her friends.

            Ron and Hermione watched as students came up the corridors, stopping in their tracks at the sight of the words.  The adults gasped, while Professor Sinistra fainted immediately.  Fred and George pushed to the front of the Gryffindors, but they stopped short at the horrible words.

            Someone from Ravenclaw shouted out, “Enemies of the Heir beware!  You’ll be next Mudbloods!”

            Hermione’s face paled drastically at the awful slur, but she refused to let herself fall into a panic attack in the middle of the hallway, especially when she didn’t know what was going on.

            Students were pushed out of the way, and Argus Filch made his way to the front of the crowd.  “Make way!  Make way!  What’s going on he—”

            He stopped when he saw the words on the wall, but his focus was drawn to the cat that Harry was lowering to the ground gently.  Filch leapt forward, picking Harry up by his neck and slamming him back against the wall.  Hermione screamed, dropping her wand in shock.

            Harry was gasping and gulping, his breathing getting slower, and Hermione was jolted into action when she saw Ron run forward and try to pry Filch away from Harry.  There were several other angry shouts heard, especially coming from the twins, who ran to join their brother.  Filch had too firm a grip on Harry, and the three students weren’t able to budge him away from their friend.  All of the shouts and screams were drowned out by the shrieking of Filch.  “YOU KILLED MY CAT!  I’LL KILL YOU FOR THIS!  I’LL KILL YOU!”

            There was a loud bang, and Filch was thrown backwards, letting Harry crumple to the ground.  Hermione quickly picked her wand up, and pointed it at the caretaker as Professors Snape, McGonagall, Dumbledore, and Lockhart came through the crowds.

            Snape knelt down next to the caretaker, and snarled at him.  “Don’t you ever touch my child again!  If you come near him, I will kill you.”  He stood up, and rushed to Harry’s side, followed closely by Madame Pomfrey and Professor McGonagall.

            For his part, Harry was starting to come around, breathing deeper, though he was still massaging his neck.  Dark purple marks were beginning to show on his brown skin, and his eyes were bulging a bit from the effort.

            “Breathe, piccolo, that’s it.  Just breathe.  We’ll get you all checked out as soon as we get you up to the hospital wing,” Madame Pomfrey soothed, though she knew that Harry couldn’t see or hear her.  “Severus, could you conjure up a couple of stretchers?  We need to get these students up to the hospital wing as soon as possible.”

            Severus was just about to wave his wand, when a loud yell echoed throughout the corridor, causing all of the students to wince.

            “HE KILLED MY CAT!  I WANT TO SEE SOME PUNISHMENT!”

            Professor Sprout appeared on the scene, and moved the students along, sending them off to their dormitories by a different route.  “House Prefects, please escort your students to your dormitories at once.  Your Heads of House will alert you the instant we know anything pertinent of this situation.”  The poor dears were scared enough, they didn’t need to be there to witness what was sure to be an ugly confrontation between Filch and some of the teachers.

            Dumbledore had bent over the still form of Mrs. Norris, poking and prodding at her.  He waved his wand, waves of magic flowing over the cat, while Lockhart was loudly recounting all of the murders he had prevented and spouting off different theories, each one more unlikely than the last.  Eventually, Dumbledore stood to his full height and put his hand on the caretaker’s shoulder.  “She is not dead, Argus, but has been petrified.”

            “Ah, just what I thought.  Pity I wasn’t here; I know just the spell that could have spared her,” Lockhart said as he came closer to Harry and the petrified cat.

            No one responded, but the teachers all raised an eyebrow skeptically.  It was extremely difficult for anyone to prevent petrification, unless is was the Body-Bind Curse.  McGonagall chose to ignore the pompous prat of a professor, and instead turned towards Ron and Hermione, who were both kneeling in a pool of water next to Harry.  She watched them with concern, particularly Harry, eying the bruises on his neck with hatred.  How she loathed Filch.

            The rest of the professors joined the group by the wall, while Professor Flitwick levitated the fainted form of Professor Sinistra onto one of the conjured stretchers.  Harry was lifted onto a second, while Mrs. Norris was placed on a third.  Harry was still wheezing and coughing, trying to get air into his little body.  Ron and Hermione waved away the offer of a stretcher, preferring to walk by themselves.

            Filch fretted around the stretcher holding Mrs. Norris, though Ron was tempted to throw the man out the nearest window.  “My poor cat!  Petrified!  He’ll get what he deserves, I’ll make sure of it,” he muttered.

            “Innocent until proven guilty,” Snape snapped.  “I know for a fact that Harry and his friends only left the Great Hall minutes before Mrs. Norris was found.  They had no chance to prepare a complicated and complex curse to petrify your cat.”

            “Who else woulda done it?  These three hate me the most, and wouldn’t hesitate to hurt Mrs. Norris,” Filch argued.

            “You caused Harry to go into a panic attack!  He was scraping the skin and tissue off of his fingers until you could see the bone!  You don’t get to accuse Harry of anything,” Severus snarled.  Minerva and Poppy also glared at the caretaker.  They also thought that there were a great many other students that would love to get rid of Filch and his cat.

            Minerva turned to Dumbledore.  “Albus, you have to get rid of him.  This is the second time he has caused Harry Potter injury.  He could have died tonight, if Severus hadn’t fired that spell.”

            Albus Dumbledore, however, was shaking his head.  “As Severus said, innocent until proven guilty.  I don’t have any proof that he did either of those things.  We all know that young Harry is rather sickly and prone to injury.  Being at the deathday party probably hurt his lungs.”

            Ron glared at the Headmaster, his face turning red and it almost seemed as though smoke was coming out of his ears, just like his mother and his sister when they were particularly angry.  He tried to take a step forward, but Hermione grabbed onto his robes and held him back.  “Don’t!  You don’t want to get expelled!” she murmured to him.

            Madame Pomfrey had obviously had enough.  “Albus, if you don’t mind, I am going to take my patients to be treated properly.  It sounds as though Harry might have a damaged windpipe, and he needs immediate medical care.”

            Without waiting for a response, the medi-witch levitated the stretchers up and marched along the corridor.  “Hurry up, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger.  Or I’ll have to put the both of you on stretchers as well.”  The two students gulped and ran to keep up, sloshing through the water that had flooded the hall.  They followed Madame Pomfrey, knowing that they were likely going to be held overnight for observation.

            Madame Pomfrey practically flew up the staircases to the hospital wing on the fifth floor, expertly steering the three stretchers away from any obstacles.  Ron and Hermione had to run to keep up with the medi-witch, and they were both out of breath by the time they got to the hospital wing.  Madame Pomfrey levitated Harry onto a bed, followed closely by Professor Sinistra and Mrs. Norris, but her attention was on the boy that still couldn’t breathe properly.

            She shoved a small vial of potion into Hermione’s hand, saying as she kept treating Harry, “Wave that underneath Professor Sinistra’s nose, and when she wakes up, have her drink it.”

            Hermione did as she was told, and the Astronomy professor woke up almost immediately after smelling the vile potion.  She gave the teacher the vial before going over to stand next to Ron at Harry’s bedside.  As Madame Pomfrey waved her wand, images appeared in the air, showing what Harry’s throat must look like.

            “Oh, that horrible man!” she cried, as she grabbed a potion to tip it down his throat.  “He nearly completely crushed your windpipes.  It’s a wonder that you can breathe at all.”

            “You will be able to fix it, won’t you, Madame Pomfrey?” Ron asked, concerned.  He had no idea what windpipes were, but having them crushed didn’t sound good.

            “Yes, of course I will.  But it will be painful, and he won’t be able to speak for the next week.  If he tries to talk at all, it could permanently damage his throat and voice.”  She waved her wand and Harry’s chest seemed to rise and fall in a slower rhythm.  “It’s a good thing he knows sign language.  He can at least communicate with some of his professors and most of his friends.”

            She gave Harry another potion to drink, and he fell asleep within moments of swallowing.  “Sleeping Potion.  I didn’t want him to be awake for this healing process.  The poor child has dealt with enough pain in his life, he doesn’t need to experience anymore.”  Another potion went down Harry’s throat, one that Ron recognized as Skele-grow.  He winced in sympathy.  Mrs. Weasley had forced him to drink the stuff whenever he broke a bone, which happened quite frequently at the Burrow.

            Once Madame Pomfrey was satisfied that Harry was on the road to recovery and that he was breathing evenly, she turned to Hermione and Ron.  “All right, let’s take a look at the both of you.”

            She waved her wand, and Hermione and Ron felt a wave of warmth wash over them, the residual chills from the deathday party disappearing in its wake.

            “Miss Granger, your body temperature is a little cooler than usual, but nothing that a nice blanket won’t cure.  Mr. Weasley, you are running a little warm.  And it looks like you’re developing the flu.  I’m going to give you some Pepper-Up, and if you cough or have a stuffy nose in the next week, come back for another dose.”

            Ron was rather annoyed, having hated his time in the hospital wing at the beginning of the school year.  While he didn’t have to worry about classes, it was extremely boring, especially since Harry spent most of his time sleeping.  The last thing he wanted was to end up back in Madame Pomfrey’s care, suffering from the flu.

            Madame Pomfrey came over with the potion and held it out to Ron.  She made sure he drank all of it before turning her attention back to Harry.  She fluffed his pillows and took off his glasses, setting them down on the table next to the bed.  She cast a monitoring spell, which showed his oxygen levels and heartrate on a space on the wall.  It also alerted her if his levels dropped dangerously.  Normally, Madame Pomfrey didn’t have to worry about using this particular spell, since most injuries at Hogwarts simply involved reversing jinxes and curses or healing broken bones.  It was rare to have any life-threatening injuries come into her hospital wing, though Harry seemed determined to break that record.  She turned to the two students, ignoring Professor Sinistra as she left.

            “Now, both of you are free to go back to your dormitories, though I want both of you here first thing tomorrow morning to get an additional check-up.  Especially you, Mr. Weasley.  I also want you both to keep an eye on your friends that went with you to that deathday party.  They might be getting the flu, as well.  All of those cold ghosts wouldn’t have been good for your health.”

            Ron and Hermione nodded their heads and shuffled out of the hospital wing, looking back at their friend with worry.  Harry really needed to stop getting hurt, or Hermione swore that she would end up going grey before they graduated.  But for now, they needed to get to bed, both Slytherins completely exhausted by the events of the day.

 

* * *

 

            After their check-up the next morning, Ron and Hermione went down to the Great Hall for breakfast, hoping to spend some quality time with their friends.  They were all sitting at the Gryffindor table that morning, though the Slytherins were drawing several glares from the older students their way.  Fred and George were busy glaring back at them while Hannah, Susan, Ginny, and Colin were eagerly asking questions about the deathday party.

            “Did Sir Nicholas like his present?” Hannah asked.

            Daphne’s eyes lit up.  “Oh, you should have seen him.  Sir Patrick from the Headless Hunt came late, and was taunting Nick about how he wasn’t properly beheaded.  And so, Nick just stands in front of this stuck-up ghost and uses his gift to cut through the last of the skin.  Then he says, ‘You will never drag my spirit away from Hogwarts.  I will remain here until I die again.’”

            Hermione rolled her eyes at Daphne’s boisterous rendition of Sir Nicholas’s speech.  Hermione sat down next to Draco, pulling out her copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ , determined to try to find anything out about the Chamber of Secrets.  She also had a medical book that she had brought from home open to images on the throat, as well as a book on Healing spells.

            Ron sat next to Neville and Seamus, who was asking more questions than anyone else on the table.  He immediately grabbed a platter of sausages and started to pile them onto his own plate before adding bacon to the mix.

            Pansy leaned forward from where she was sitting on Draco’s other side.  “Did you guys go see Harry this morning?”

            “Oh, yesh.  ‘Ewav fstil feeping,” Ron said through a mouth of food.

            Pansy looked absolutely disgusted.  “Don’t speak with your mouth full, Ronald.  It’s quite revolting.”

            Ron rolled his eyes but finished swallowing before speaking again.  “Yeah, we saw him.  He was still sleeping.  Pomfrey’s got him on some kind of sleeping potion so he isn’t in as much pain while his body heals.  Filch did some nasty work on him last night.”

            Theo raised his head sharply from where he was resting it on the table.  “Wait, we’ve only heard rumors about the Chamber of Secrets and that Harry was in the hospital wing again.  What did Filch do?”

            Neville looked rather scared, his eyes turning towards Hermione, who was still nose deep in her books.  “Mione, what did Filch do to Harry?”

            She sighed and slammed the book shut, startling the rest of the Gryffindor table.  “That man shouldn’t be anywhere near children.  Last night, Harry heard Parseltongue and followed it to just outside Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom.  Mrs. Norris was hanging from a torch bracket, completely stiff.  Harry got her down and was laying her gently on the ground, when Filch saw him touching his cat.  You know how much he hates Harry.  It was horrible to watch.  He picked Harry up by the throat and slammed him against the wall, choking him.  If Ron and the twins hadn’t jumped in, he might have killed Harry by the time Professor Snape got there.”

            The Snake Club looked sick.  Ron pushed away his plate, his appetite suddenly gone.  Once again, they had come close to losing Harry.  Ginny, in particular, was affected by this news, her face pale and she was trembling.  Hermione reached out and took Neville’s hand, as the boy was crying, in an effort to comfort him.  “Madame Pomfrey said that we could visit after breakfast.  But, we can’t all go in at once.  The limit is five visitors, and Harry isn’t allowed to talk for the next week, or he could damage his throat permanently,” she said, informing the rest of the table.

            Hermione withdrew her hand and pulled out the medical textbook, showing them a diagram of the throat.  “See, right here?  That’s what’s called the windpipes.  You breathe through them, and your vocal chords are attached to them, here.  When Filch grabbed Harry’s throat, he partially crushed his windpipes, so he was having a hard time breathing.”

            “WHAT?!” cried the table, startling several students throughout the Great Hall.

            “What did Dumbledore do about it?” asked Seamus.

            Hermione glared towards the head table, where the Headmaster’s seat was empty.  “Snape and McGonagall both demanded that Filch be fired immediately, but Dumbledore refused.  He said that he hadn’t personally witnessed Filch doing anything wrong, and so there was no proof.  He was ‘innocent until proven guilty.’”

            Lee shook his head.  “That’s not right.  Filch should’a been fired a long time ago for the way we’ve been treated by him.  You know he once managed to chain Fred and George in his office!  It was during our first year!”

            Fred and George leaned over and smacked Lee upside the head simultaneously.  “You promised you wouldn’t tell anyone, you prat,” George said.

            Lee ducked his head and blushed, mumbling an apology to the twins.  “Still, though.  That man oughta be punished for what he’s done to students,” Lee said louder.  While they weren’t happy with their best friend, the twins did agree that Filch was a danger to the students.  The only reason they hadn’t told anyone but Lee about the chains was that they knew Mrs. Weasley would end up in Azkaban for murdering Filch.

            Draco was looking thoughtful.  “Maybe I could speak to my father about this.  He is on the school board, and he could force Dumbledore to fire Filch.”

            Blaise spoke up for the first time that morning.  (He was not a morning person, regardless of what anyone else said.  He preferred not to speak until after noon.)  “Wait, Draco, do you think it wise to bring your father into this?  I mean, he was a supporter of You-Know-Who, and he loathes Harry.  He wouldn’t care if Filch was whipping a bunch of muggleborns and blood-traitors.  In fact, he would probably offer Filch a raise.”

            Draco seemed to wilt in his seat.  “Oh, you’re probably right.  Well, if nothing else, I could ask him what the Chamber of Secrets is.  I don’t think _Hogwarts: A History_ mentions it at all.”

            Susan spoke up.  “Do you think that that Ravenclaw was right last night?  Do you really think muggleborns are going to be targeted?”

            “Filch isn’t muggleborn,” Millicent pointed out, through a mouthful of toast.  Pansy gave her a disgusted look before turning to look through her bookbag for her makeup bag.

            “Ah, but Filch is a Squib,” said Fred.  “In Slytherin’s eyes, they were just as bad as muggleborns.”

            “What is a Squib?” Colin squeaked out.  “I’ve never heard of that before?”  
            George patiently explained, “A Squib is when a child is born to magical parents, but they don’t have a drop of magic in them.  It isn’t very common, and it only happens if there are complications in a pregnancy.  A Squib is basically a muggle that grew up in the wizarding world and whose parents are magic.”

            “Oh,” said Colin.  “Is that why Filch is so angry all the time?  I mean, he works in a place where students are practicing and learning magic.  I would be a little bitter if I couldn’t perform magic, but was still surrounded by it.”

            The table was silent for a few moments before Fred and George started to laugh, Lee joining in.  “All this time, we’ve wondered why Filch is so angry all the time, and Colin is the first to figure it out,” said Fred.

            “Well, he’s not wrong,” Luna said in her dreamy voice.  “After all, wouldn’t you be just as upset?  But Harry shouldn’t have been treated like that.  I expect that we’re going to make Mr. Filch’s life miserable,” she said as she buttered her toast.

            “Definitely,” said the whole table together.  No one was going to hurt Harry and get away with it.

            “Come on, then.  Let’s go up to the hospital wing.  I want to see Harry,” Pansy said, gathering everything together.  Everyone else followed her example.

            They were just about to leave Gryffindor table, when Percy came wandering by.  “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked sharply.

            “Well, we just finished eating breakfast and are on our way to see our friend.  Is that against the rules?” snarked Blaise.  He was rather sick of the rude looks the Snake Club was getting from the older Gryffindors.

            “You shouldn’t be sitting here at all,” responded Percy haughtily.

            “And where should we sit?  Out in the hallway?” said Daphne.

            “No, you should be sitting at your own table.  It’s against the rules to sit at a House table other than your own.”

            Hermione glared at the older Weasley.  “That is absolutely false.  There is not a single rule in the entire school rule book that states that we have to remain at our own tables.  Besides, if it was against the rules, then Gryffindor House would be losing House points nearly every meal with how often your siblings are sitting with us Slytherins.”

            Percy glared at the younger witch.  “It may not specifically state it, but it is strongly discouraged, and can be punished.”

            “I think you just have a problem with Slytherins sitting at your table.  If that is the case, then, Percy Weasley, you ought to be ashamed of yourself.  We are judged almost as harshly as muggleborns are, and it’s not fair to anyone.  Besides, your own brother is in Slytherin.  You really want to never have meals with him?” Hermione demanded.

            From behind Percy’s back, Fred, George, and Lee were silently applauding her, while Pansy smirked.  Draco stood up next to Hermione, with Neville on the other side.

            “We are first and foremost, Hogwarts students, and we will be treated as such.  Houses don’t really matter.  It’s who we are and how we treat others that determines our worth,” Draco said passionately.  “Now, if you’ll excuse us, we have a friend to visit in the hospital wing.”

            And with that final declaration, the entire group moved out of the Great Hall and up the Grand Staircase.  Colin was practically bouncing with excitement.  “Oh, that was brilliant!  The way you stood up to him!  I wish I could be that brave,” he said breathlessly.

            George just chuckled and ruffled the first-year’s hair.  “Percy’s just a prat.  Sometimes, he needs to be reminded of the bigger picture, rather than the rule book.  Speaking of which, Hermione, you’ve read the whole rule book?”

            Hermione glanced back at the boys and sniffed.  “Of course, I have.  I need to know what the rules are so I can get around them easier.  There are usually loopholes that we can use for our purposes.”

            Fred clutched his heart and grabbed onto the nearest person (who happened to be Blaise).  “My dear Mione.  I do believe I have fallen in love with you.  That is positively wicked.”

            She just rolled her eyes at the boy’s antics.  “Well, I am a Slytherin, you know.  Sometimes, in order to do what’s right, you have to do something wrong.”

            “Forge, I do believe we’ve corrupted her,” said George with a grin on his face.

            Draco snorted at that.  “More like, you’ve finally appreciated what Slytherin cunning can do for you.  If anyone’s corrupted her, it’s us.”

            Hermione rolled her eyes again and sent a few Stinging Jinxes their way, causing the boys to yelp.  “Come on.  I want to see if Harry’s awake yet.”

            As it turned out, Harry was awake, and quite glad to see his friends.  He immediately handed Hermione a list of books to check out for him, since Madame Pomfrey refused to let him leave the hospital wing for the next few days.  A quick glance at the list told Hermione that Harry was planning on researching everything he could about giant snakes and the Chamber of Secrets.

            Ron sat on the bed next to him, while Madame Pomfrey shuffled back into her office, knowing that there was no way that she would be able to get the group of friends to leave.  Draco, Neville, and Pansy pulled chairs over so they could sit next to their friend.

            **“I am so sorry that you’re here again,”** said Pansy.

            **It’s okay.  I mean, I’m kind of used to it by now.  I’ve just come to accept that every three weeks or so, I have an appointment with Aunt Poppy for a life-threatening injury.**

            They couldn’t help but roll their eyes at Harry’s pitiful attempt at a joke.  Truthfully, they didn’t like that he was in so much danger all the time.

            **“Harry, you need to be more careful,”** said Hermione, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze.  **“It was terrifying watching you try to breathe last night.”**

            **I’m okay, Hermione.  I just gotta give you all the silent treatment for the next week.  Oh, do you think we can play a prank on Fred and George by telling them that certain signs mean something completely different?**

            They all laughed and agreed that they should play that prank on the twins.  Neville grinned at his friend, particularly pleased that Harry was laughing and joking with them and not dwelling on the horrible things that happened the night before.


	11. Chapter 11

            Harry was rather glad to be out of the hospital wing, and he secretly agreed with Aunt Poppy.  While he loved the medi-witch dearly, he wanted to stay out of the hospital wing for more than a week.  He doubted there was any other student in the history of Hogwarts that had been injured as frequently as he was.

            Unfortunately, on his first day back with the rest of the school, Harry had a run-in with Professor Gilderoy Lockhart.  There weren’t very many people that Harry truly disliked, but that man was one of them.

            All of the teachers had been given strict instructions to not let Harry talk.  If he needed to ask a question, or was called on to answer one, he could sign to one of his friends and have them speak for him.  Lockhart disregarded any and all attempts of speaking for Harry.

            “Harry, my boy, do join me up here.  Today, we’re going to be talking about how I got rid of the Wagga Wagga Werewolf, and I need you to help me reenact it,” Lockhart announced as he strode into the classroom.

            Hermione’s arm instantly shot up, as did Draco’s, Pansy’s, Ron’s, and Neville’s.  Lockhart looked a bit surprised, as it was incredibly rare that that many students participated in his class.  Usually, the boys ignored him and the girls fawned over him.

            “Er, Miss Granger.  I believe your hand was up first,” he said.

            “Please, sir, Harry’s not fully recovered from his injury on Halloween.  He’s not allowed to speak for the next week or his throat could be permanently damaged.”

            “Nonsense, Miss Granger.  He looks perfectly fine to me, though he does look a little red.  Flattered, I suppose, that he’s going to be able to help me with my demonstration.  Now, come on up, Harry,” said Lockhart, still beaming brightly.

            Harry slumped in his seat but made to stand up anyway.  Pansy grabbed his arm and held him in his seat.  “Professor, didn’t you listen to Hermione?  Madame Pomfrey ordered Harry to not talk at all.  I would expect that your little demonstration would include howling and the like, which would result in extreme injury for Harry,” she said, standing up and glaring at him.

            “Oh, Madame Pomfrey wouldn’t know what to do with something as simple as a Pepper-Up Potion.  I’ve saved plenty of lives, and I know for a fact that Harry is just fine.  Now, sit down Miss Parkinson, or you will be serving detention.”  Lockhart still had that irritating smile on his face, but his eyes held a dangerous glint in them.

            Harry put his hand on Pansy’s arm to get her attention.  **It’s alright.  I don’t want you getting into trouble.  Maybe he won’t make me say anything, and if he does, I’ll just sign.**

Pansy shook her head angrily, but Harry pulled her down into her seat before making his way to the front of the classroom.  He ignored the concerned looks his friends were shooting his way, instead, focused on making sure that no one ended up in detention because of him.

            “Alright, Harry.  So glad you could join me.  Now, you just stand here, and I’ll stand over there.  I want you to look fierce and like you want to tear Miss Patil’s throat out.”

            Harry raised one eyebrow at that instruction.  He shrugged his shoulder and turned to face Parvati who was giggling a bit with Lavender.  “No offense, Professor, but Harry is the least terrifying person I’ve ever seen.  I’ve seen him cry because he accidentally stepped on a butterfly; I don’t think he can be this terrifying werewolf.”

            The class all giggled at that, and after blushing a bit, Harry joined in.  It was true, after all.  He had cried when he stepped on a beautiful butterfly that happened to be resting.  Hermione had had to pull him away and take him to Severus for a Calming draught before he stopped.

            “I think he’ll do just fine,” Lockhart announced.  Then he turned towards Harry and waved his wand out in front of him.  “Now, the werewolf was about to attack an innocent villager, when I stepped in.  I had discovered an ancient spell not long before and I cast it at him.  It reverted the werewolf back into his human form.  The wolf was angry, since they prefer to be werewolves, especially so they can feed on humans.  He came at me like so,” Lockhart said as he motioned for Harry to attack him.  “Come on, Harry.  Growl like a feral werewolf.  I know you can do it.”

            Harry just stared at this man.  Everything he had said about werewolves was completely false.  He knew that there wasn’t a spell to turn the wolf back into a man, or Uncle Moony would have used it.  And no werewolf preferred to be transformed.  Harry opened his mouth, about to tell Lockhart off, when he noticed Hermione in the back of the room, glaring fiercely at him.

            **No talking!**   She made the gestures wide in an effort to convey her displeasure at him.

            **Come up and interpret for me then,** Harry signed back.

            “Professor, Harry has something he’d like to say,” Hermione said.

            “Well, then, Harry.  Out with it,” Lockhart said, looking a little put out that his demonstration was interrupted.

            Harry rolled his eyes at his professor and pointed to his throat, before clapping a hand over his mouth as a way to convey that he couldn’t speak.  Instead, Hermione joined him at the front, her eyes fixated on Harry’s hands.

            **“I actually wanted to correct several things that you said, Professor.  There is no spell on this planet that would allow a werewolf to change back into a human the night of a full moon.  The closest thing they have is the Wolfsbane Potion which helps them retain a clear mind.  They act just like a pet dog when they take this potion.**

**“I also know, from a good friend of mine, that werewolves despise changing.  I think the only wolf in the world that would prefer to be changed all the time is Fenrir Greyback, as he uses his lycanthropy as a weapon.  Transforming is extremely painful, as their bones shift, break, and rearrange themselves.  And if there aren’t any humans around, the wolves turn to mutilating themselves.  The wolves I know about, prefer to chain themselves up in a basement of some kind, rather than risk infecting someone else, or accidentally killing them.**

**“People afflicted with lycanthropy are just that:  People.  They deserve to be treated as such, rather than ostracized from the wizarding world.  They go hungry because they can’t work to afford food, they mutilate their own bodies to prevent others from being injured, and they are often alone, though they are inherently pack creatures.  Werewolves are not vicious beasts because they have no choice in the matter.  Instead, we are the vicious ones for alienating and isolating them, rather than treating lycanthropy as the incurable illness it is.”**

            Harry finished his rant, breathing heavily from the amount of passion he had put into his signing.  The class stared at Harry in shock, since most of them had never experienced the boy get angry about anything.  There were several students, namely the purebloods, that looked a little uncomfortable, but Neville was the first to speak up.

            “That was brilliant Harry.  I mean, no one judges you for not being able to hear, something you have no control over.  Why should we judge werewolves for having a condition they have no control over?”

            Harry nodded eagerly, and beamed at his friend.  And, to his delight, he saw that a majority of the Slytherins in the class were looking thoughtful, as though they had never considered that point of view before.  Harry knew that his friends were good people, but they were raised by parents to believe certain prejudices.  It made him happy that they were reconsidering views they had thought of as fact.

            Lockhart, however, was less than thrilled.  “Harry, my boy, I think you are letting your fame get to your head.  You should let the teacher lecture the class.  After all, I have faced a real werewolf, unlike you.  Therefore, I know more about those dark creatures than you do.”  His voice was patronizing, and many of the class members were glaring at Lockhart.  Neville, in particular, looked thunderous, which was a terrifying look on the kind-hearted boy.

            Harry shrunk away in the face of Lockhart’s anger.  Granted, the man wasn’t all that terrifying, but he still reminded Harry of the Dursleys.  The boy apologized, and moved to sit back down at the back, wishing that class would be over soon.  Lockhart had a different idea, though, and grabbed Harry by the arm, keeping him in place.

            “That’s the spirit, Harry.  Stick with me and I’ll teach you all about fame and how to manage your impulses.  In the meantime, though, let’s talk more about the Wagga Wagga Werewolf.  You know, the spell I was talking about was rather obscure, until I found.  I included the incantation in my book _Wanderings with Werewolves_.  You’ll find it on page 94.”

            The rest of the class went by without any more interruptions, and Harry was grateful when the bell rang and rescued him from Lockhart’s reenactments.  He made his way to his desk to gather his books.  Ron and Hermione were waiting for him, Hermione scolding the redhead accidentally spilling ink all over their notes.

            “Honestly, Ron, you need to learn to control your temper.  We all hate Lockhart, but you can’t let your temper dictate what you do.  It’s not worth it.”

            “I think standing up to that git is definitely worth it.  He shouldn’t use Harry like that, it’s cruel.”

            “I agree, but there’s not really anything we can do about it.  We don’t have proof that Lockhart is a fraud, and we can’t just go to Professor Snape without any evidence.  Besides, when those monsters were angry around Harry, it usually meant that he would end up getting hurt.  Ron, you need to learn to control your temper, for Harry,” Hermione said, obviously not realizing that Harry was watching his friends intently.

            He grabbed his bag, and took each of his friends by the arms, and dragged them from the classroom, completely ignoring Lockhart as he left.

            **Ron, I appreciate that you’re angry on my behalf, but Mia’s right.  You need to learn how to control your temper.  What if you end up insulting one of the Lords on the Wizengamot?  And Mia, I appreciate your concern, I do, but Ron’s fine.  Also, you’re collecting evidence on Lockhart, so we’ll be able to take him down soon.  For now, I’ve just got to play the role of twitter-pated fan of Lockhart’s.  I don’t want a teacher to hate me; I’ve already got Filch.**

            Hermione and Ron exchanged a glance over Harry’s head.  The look said the same thing.  He was far more wonderful and kind than anyone else they’ve ever met.  Ron certainly wouldn’t allow Lockhart to push him around so much just to keep the peace.

            Hermione signed back, **You’re right, Harry.  For now, we’ll just keep playing along with his lessons.  In the meantime, though, I’m going to be studying on my own, just so I can learn proper Defense Against the Dark Arts, and you’re both welcome to join me.**

            Ron shook his head, shuddering at the thought of more homework.  Harry thought about it for a moment, before agreeing.  He knew that Voldemort would return in the future, and he needed to have as much preparation as possible for when that time came.  Harry looked at his best friend and chuckled silently at the face of disgust Ron had.  He obviously did not want to do more work than necessary.

            “I think I’ll stick with playing chess.  It’s what I’m good at, after all.”

            The rest of the week went by quickly with only one other Defense Against the Dark Arts class.  Lockhart picked on Harry, just like he did every other class, which annoyed him.  However, Lockhart seemed to be under the impression that his biggest fan was Harry, and he was constantly giving the boy various tips on embracing his fame.

            His other classmates were annoyed with Lockhart for various reasons.  The Slytherins couldn’t stand the fraud, especially since he always messed with Harry and refused to remember that he was deaf.  The Gryffindor boys were frustrated with the lack of good teaching, while the girls wanted to be the ones that Lockhart chose for his demonstrations.  All in all, Lockhart’s class was everyone’s least favorite for one reason or another.

            The teachers were not much better.  From a professional standpoint, Gilderoy Lockhart was an obvious fraud, though they all lacked proof.  With his declarations at the scene of Mrs. Norris’s petrification, every last one of the professors realized how incompetent their DADA professor was, and how little he actually knew about dark creatures and spells.  There was one known spell that resulted in partial petrification:  The Body Bind Curse.  Real petrification was an anomaly in the wizarding world, and no one knew how Mrs. Norris was attacked.

            Professors McGonagall and Snape had decided to mock Lockhart on his lack of knowledge, asking him various questions, and approaching him with non-threatening problems for the man to solve.  It was humorous for the competent teachers, and highly frustrating for Lockhart.

            The one adult that openly expressed her disdain and dislike for the Defense professor was Poppy Pomfrey.  When Harry had come in for his check-up and medical inspection for the Quidditch game, he told her all about how Lockhart discounted his condition and injuries in favor of having Harry put himself on display for the class’s amusement.

            “That one is a bad egg, if I do say so myself, piccolo.  I’ll speak to him, but in the meantime, you must avoid that man if you can help it.  If Gilderoy Lockhart is legitimate, I’ll eat my wand.”

            Her ire was definitely amusing for Harry, as well as a huge relief.  He was afraid that all of his professors would insist that Lockhart was a teacher, and therefore deserved all of his respect and obedience.  After one year of school, Harry knew more about Defense Against the Dark Arts than Lockhart did, mainly from the various books that his guardians had given him.

            With the knowledge that his Aunt Poppy supported him, as well as cleared him for the Quidditch match, Harry skipped the rest of the day, ignoring the judgmental glances thrown his way.

            The day of the Quidditch match was stormy, much like it had been the entire month, which filled Harry with dread.  He loved flying with all of his heart, but he also didn’t want to get sick and end up back in the hospital wing.

            Marcus Flint came up to Harry in the Great Hall, where the young Seeker was working on a small plate of sausages and eggs.  Hermione had convinced him to eat a breakfast of protein, since that would be healthiest for him, and he was less likely to be sick while flying.  The captain of the Slytherin Quidditch team sat next to Harry, making sure that the young boy was looking at him.

            “Listen, Harry—”

            “Not one of my talents, Marcus,” Harry said with a grin, causing his friends to laugh.

            Marcus rolled his eyes, but continued speaking, since jokes like that were common when talking to Harry.  “I know you are good friends with the Gryffindor team, but today, we need to make sure that we win if we’re going to get the Quidditch Cup this year.  The Weasley twins aren’t going to go easy on you, especially since they know that you’re the better Seeker.  They’re going to hit nearly every Bludger in your direction.

            “I’ve been working with Professor Snape, and we’ve come up with an idea to let you know when a Bludger is heading your way, since you can’t hear them coming.  Snape charmed your goggles to vibrate when a Bludger is within ten feet of you, regardless of which direction it’s heading.  If it’s closer to your left, the left side of your goggles will vibrate harder, than the right, and vice versa.”

            “That’s brilliant!  Thanks, Marcus,” Harry said with a bright smile on his face.

            “Anything to keep our Seeker safely on his broom, searching for the Snitch,” responded Marcus before he wandered off to try to eat his own breakfast.

            Harry watched the Gryffindor table, especially his friends.  They had elected to sit with their House, rather than affiliate with their “enemy”.  Fred and George were flirting with Alicia, Katie, and Angelina, in an effort to diffuse the tension.  They all knew how good Harry was, and they knew that it was a good possibility that the only way they would win, was if the Gryffindor team had a more than one-hundred-and-fifty-point lead.  The Chasers were the most important members of the team that day.

            Oliver Wood was giving a pep talk to their new Seeker, saying something along the lines of “catch the Snitch or die trying.”  Harry shuddered at those words, glad that Oliver wasn’t his team captain.

            Severus cast the Glamour Charm on Harry to hide his scars before the Seeker went down to change into his Quidditch robes for the game.  He was a little nervous.  The team had been practicing frequently, even scrimmaging with the Gryffindors, but it was a little different to have an audience.  Granted, he was able to play just fine his first-year, but Harry was nervous with all the attention that he had been getting that year.

            Marcus and Oliver walked out to the middle of the pitch and shook hands fiercely, as though they hated each other.  Harry knew better, knowing that the two captains were secretly best friends and liked each other.  Neither had wanted to admit their affection for the other, which drove Harry nuts.  (He had mentioned Marcus’s crush on the apposing captain once, but was immediately shut down.)

            Harry gripped his Nimbus 2000 tightly, and when he saw Madame Hooch blow her whistle, he took off in the air, flying above the Chasers, Beaters, and Keepers.  Trevor Horntail, the Gryffindor Seeker, tailed Harry closely, as though he was expecting to be able to follow Harry and snatch the Snitch from his fingers.  Harry was circling the pitch, as he usually did in games, when his goggles started to vibrate.

            Quickly, Harry dove, the Bludger barely missing his head, passing so close that it ruffled Harry’s unruly hair.  _That was close_ , he thought, turning to look at the nearest twin.  Neither of them were looking in his direction, however, and Harry didn’t pay any more attention to the two Beaters since his goggles were buzzing once more, this time on the left side.

            Harry rolled his broom away from the incoming heavy black Bludger, and it narrowly missed him again.  This time, though, he watched as the Bludger made a tight arc before heading his way again, causing his goggles to vibrate once more.

            Letting out a yell, and darting across the pitch towards the Gryffindor stands, Harry tried to outstrip the Bludger.  The vibrating in his goggles never slowed, indicating that the Bludger was still hot on his tail, keeping up with him with ease.  Harry pulled his broom around, flying back towards the Slytherin side of the stands.

            _What is going on?_ Harry wondered.  _Bludgers never concentrated on one player; it was their job to unseat as many players as possible._

Fred Weasley was waiting at the end of the pitch, and as Harry came zooming by, Fred hit the Bludger with a solid SMACK, sending it after one of the Slytherin Chasers.  It had barely traveled more than twenty feet before it circled back and tried to knock Harry off his broom again.  Harry flew through the air, pulling his broom every which way to avoid the black ball determined to hit him.

            Fred watched the Bludger turn and follow the young Seeker, and felt his stomach lurch.  The last thing he wanted was for Harry to end up dying in a Quidditch game when he and his twin could do something to prevent it.  He glanced over to his twin, who was currently chasing after Harry, knowing that they were thinking the same thing.  Fred turned his broom to chase down Larkin and McAllister, the Slytherin beaters.

            “Larkin, we need your help!  A Bludger’s gone rogue and is chasing Harry around the pitch!” he yelled out as he ducked the incoming Bludger hit by Kristy Larkin.  She searched the field for her teammate, her eyes widening as she watched George batting at the Bludger repeatedly to try to keep it away from Harry.

            “Ask Wood to call for a time-out!  SAM, WE NEED TO HELP HARRY!” she bellowed to her fellow Beater.

            Sam McAllister followed her lead, the two going to help George guard their Seeker.  Fred turned his broom towards the Quidditch rings, where Oliver successfully stopped Marcus Flint from putting the Quaffle through a hoop.

            “Oliver, call a time-out!” he shouted.  Oliver nodded, not knowing why but trusting Fred, since the one thing the twins took seriously was Quidditch.

            Madame Hooch whistled, and all fourteen players descended to the field.  Oliver turned to Fred.  “Alright, what’s up?”

            “A Bludger’s gone rogue and is only chasing after Harry.  I don’t know what to do!”

            “That’s what you called a time-out for?  Who cares if a Bludger is chasing Harry?  It gives us a better chance at winning!  Trevor, you need to search for that Snitch while Potter’s occupied.”

            George was about to open his mouth to tell Oliver off, but was cut off by Angelina forcibly turning Oliver to look at the Slytherin team.  Both of their Beaters had their bats swinging, while they beat a Bludger away from them.  Madame Hooch was trying desperately to help them control it, since the other Bludger had frozen in mid-air at the call for a time-out.

            “That Bludger is trying to kill Harry.  You know him, Oliver.  I know you want to win, but sacrificing Harry’s life to do it is not the way to play.  We’re known for our fairness, and as for me, I’m going to go see if I can do anything to help them,” the Chaser said.

            Angelina started to stalk over to the Slytherins, when Oliver reached out and grabbed her arm.  “I’m sorry, Ang.  You’re right.  Let’s all go over and see what we can do to help Harry.”  He led the way to Marcus Flint and said, “What can we do to help, Marcus?”

            “You can try to convince Harry to sit out and let Draco play in his stead.  He won’t do anyone any good getting himself killed out there.”

            Fred and George nodded and held their bats tighter, as they approached Harry who was dodging the deadly black ball whenever it slipped past Larkin and McAllister.  “Harry, you should let Draco play for you.  It’ll be safer.  Besides, if you don’t trade out, Mia might actually kill you for scaring her,” said George.

            “The Bludger’s not leaving me alone even during a time-out, what makes you think it will when I’m sitting on a bench?  If it’s going to come after me regardless of where I sit, then I want to play,” Harry said, crossing his arms over his chest in an act of defiance.

            Fred pinched the bridge of his nose, realizing that this was not going to be an easy task.  If Molly Weasley was stubborn, Harry Potter was ten times more so.  “Harry, where’s your Slytherin self-preservation?  You won’t survive the end of the game at this rate,” Fred growled.

            “The Bludger hasn’t hit me once, and that was before you guys noticed and started fending it off.  Besides, the Sorting Hat nearly placed me in Gryffindor, so I guess my bravery outweighs my self-preservation.”

            Fred heard a whistling sound come from over his shoulder and he turned and swung his bat, belting the Bludger over to the other side of the pitch.  “If that had hit you, you would be in St. Mungo’s or lying here, dead.  Now, please, for all our sakes, sit out the rest of the match.”

            Harry ignored the twins and grabbed his broom.  “Madame Hooch, I think we are way over the time constraint for a time-out.  I’m ready to play as soon as you blow your whistle.  And Kristy, Sam, it’s okay.  We need you to keep the rest of the team from getting knocked around by the other Bludger.  Fred, George, I’m not even on your team.  I can handle myself just fine.  I’ll go up, catch the Snitch, and then the Bludger won’t be a problem anymore.”

            Madame Hooch looked at both team captains, before reluctantly raising her whistle.  “He is right.  We are over the time limit, and you need to start playing,” she said before blowing the whistle loudly.

            The two teams all reluctantly got back onto their brooms, and took off after the young Seeker.  The Bludger was already hot on his tail, and Harry managed to avoid its devastating blows while performing rather impressive aerial stunts on his broom.  His eyes were constantly scanning the pitch, looking for any tiny little glimmer of gold.  He thought he saw it, but when he dived towards the glint, he realized that it was only Marcus’s watch.

            Trevor Horntail was spending his time searching, though he would cast worried looks over at his rival occasionally to make sure that the younger boy hadn’t fallen off of his broom.  Marcus and the other Slytherin Chasers were passing the Quaffle back and forth, while Kristy and George were batting the other Bludger towards their opposing teams violently.  Oliver Wood kept one eye on the Quaffle, and one on Harry Potter, who was now flying nearly a hundred feet in the air.

            Harry kept circling the pitch, dodging the rogue Bludger.  Just when the Bludger had whizzed past his head, lightning flashed and the rain started to pour.  He couldn’t see anything, from the water on his glasses.  Harry felt his heart rate speed up, as he became helpless in the sky.  He couldn’t see, he couldn’t hear, and his fingers were starting to go numb.  Wishing that he had listened to his teammates and the twins, Harry tried to angle his broom down.

            Dodging the Bludger two more times, he managed to wrestle his broomstick down to a normal playing level, rather than the breath-taking heights he had been flying at.  Harry whizzed past Angelina and Katie, shouting a head’s up to them for the Bludger that was hot on his tail.

            A flash of gold had Harry turning his broom suddenly, following after the fluttering Snitch.  It flitted across the pitch, changing direction suddenly to shoot up into the sky.  Harry’s eyes didn’t stray from the little ball, and he ignored the vibrating of his goggles.  He needed to end this game so the Bludger could be taken care of without it injuring anyone.

            Harry stretched his arm out, the Snitch flitting just beyond his grasp.  He urged his Nimbus 2000 to go faster, lying low over his broom to reduce drag.  The Snitch was almost in his grasp, when CRACK!!  The Bludger came from his left side and smashed into his right arm, splintering his elbow.  Harry screamed and nearly passed out from the pain, but he kept his eyes on the elusive golden ball.

            “Almost there,” he muttered to himself.  He needed to get even closer, since he didn’t trust the Bludger to not smash his other arm.  Besides, he had never flown without one hand on the handle, and he didn’t want to fall at that height.

            “Come on, Harry, you can do it.  Almost there.  You’re so close, and then you can go get Aunt Poppy to look at your arm.”

            He ducked the Bludger again, and urged his broom a little faster.  So close. . . so close. . . inches away . . . and . . . GOT IT!  His left hand closed around the Snitch and he let out a shout of triumph.  Immediately, the match that was going on below him halted, as Madame Hooch announced that the Snitch had been caught.

            When Hermione heard the whistle, she let out a sob in relief.  Watching one of her best friends fly through the stormy weather, being pursued by a murderous Bludger, was absolutely terrifying.  Her arms wrapped around Pansy, and she let out a shaky breath.

            “Where’s Harry?” Theo asked, looking over the various players on the pitch.  Trevor Horntail was over by Oliver Wood, while Angelina was helping an injured Katie up to the castle.  The rest of the players were still circling the pitch, the Slytherins adding in an extra victory lap, while Fred, George, and Alicia were flying as though they were looking for something.

            “I don’t know, but let’s go down to the pitch.  I have a feeling that Harry’s probably a bit beat up from that Bludger,” Hermione said, as she headed down the stairs to the pitch.  It didn’t take very long for all of the Slytherins to gather on the grass, their eyes raised to the sky as they waited for their Seeker to appear.  Hermione felt a drop hit her that was far thicker than the small drops of rain.  She touched her forehead and looked at her finger.  It was red.

            “Pansy, go get Madame Pomfrey.  Harry’s bleeding.”  She looked at the clouds above her and watched as Harry flew down, the Bludger still hot on his tail.  He dove and whirled, the Snitch fluttering helplessly in his teeth, as he used only one hand to steer his broomstick.

            With a mighty CRASH, he plowed into the dirt, not far from the Slytherins.  Hermione started running to her friend, realizing that something was wrong with his right arm.  However, she was pushed to the ground, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw jade green robes flutter past.

            “Don’t worry, Harry,” boomed Lockhart.  “I can fix that up in just a second.  I’ve had plenty of experience mending broken bones, you know.”

            Harry looked up when he registered a person near him, and his face paled at the sight of the DADA professor instead of Madame Pomfrey.  He quickly spat the Snitch into the palm of his left hand before saying hastily, “No, not you.  Where’s Aunt Poppy?” he said desperately.

            His goggles vibrated, startling Harry, since they hadn’t buzzed since he crashed on the ground.  He rolled, ignoring the splitting pain in his arm.  The Bludger slammed into the ground where Harry’s head was just a moment before, and shot back into the air, preparing for another pass.  Fred and George launched themselves at the rogue Bludger, pinning it to the ground, and wrestling it towards the box that held the other Quidditch balls.

            “That was a close one, Harry, m’boy.  Now, let’s have a look at that arm,” Lockhart said with his ever-present smile.  He knelt down in front of Harry, and pulled the boy’s right arm forward, ignoring the grimace of pain on his face.

            Hermione took a good look at the shattered arm, and had to fight to keep from being sick.  It was a mass of mangled flesh and bone and blood, his arm completely shattered.  Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Pansy faint, Blaise catching her just before she hit the grass.  Hermione felt a bit light-headed herself, though she didn’t pass out.

            “No, please Professor.  I’ll just go to Aunt Poppy and she’ll fix up my arm,” Harry said.

            The Slytherins watched in horror as Lockhart completely ignored Harry’s protest and pointed his wand at his arm.  A second later, Harry let out a horrible scream, as everyone in the vicinity heard a loud CRACK!  Rather than just the compound fracture, it looked like Lockhart pulled the bone out of the open wound, breaking it in several more places.  It also looked like the bones in his upper arm were completely vanished.

            “What did you do?” Hermione shrieked, pulling her wand out and pointing it at Lockhart.

            “Now, Miss Granger, this does happen occasionally.  Now, why don’t you help Harry, here, up to the hospital wing, there’s a good lass.”  His grin never faltered, and he looked rather calm for a man with a wand pointed at his face.

            “Mr. Lockhart, I will ask you only once to back away from Mr. Potter,” came a low, drawling voice.  The Slytherin Quidditch team parted from where they were gathered around their Seeker, to reveal Professor Snape prowling towards Harry.  His robes billowed ominously behind him, and Hermione shivered at the cold fury in his black eyes.

            Lockhart jumped up in fright.  He took a couple of paces away from where Harry was growing paler and paler from blood loss.  “Now, now, Severus.  It was an honest mistake.  You know that some of these healing spells are rather finicky.”

            The look that Snape gave Lockhart was cold enough that it could freeze the Eternal Flame.  “If done by a professional Healer, those spells would have worked perfectly.  Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure that Mr. Potter is not going to bleed to death due to your incompetence.”

            Snape conjured a stretcher and levitated Harry onto it, careful to not jostle the broken arm more than necessary.  “Miss Granger, please run ahead and inform Madame Pomfrey that we are going to need Skele-grow, blood-replenishing potions, and a Calming Draught for Miss Parkinson.  Mr. Zabini, please follow me with Miss Parkinson.  Mr. Weasley, I would suggest you get control of your temper.  As much as I’m sure we’d all like to curse this man into oblivion, I’m afraid I would have to expel you for attacking a teacher.

            Hermione glanced at Ron, before darting off, determined to make it to the Hospital Wing before Snape.

 

* * *

 

            Harry passed out shortly after he was placed on the stretcher, and remained unconscious all through the journey through the castle.  He even remained asleep when Pansy came to, and started crying hysterically over his broken body.  Madame Pomfrey managed to get the necessary potions down his throat, and slept during the painful procedure as she had to shove his bone back into his forearm.

            In fact, Harry didn’t wake up until a poking sensation invaded his unconsciousness.  Slowly, his body began to wake up, until he could feel all of his limbs.  There was a dull pain in his arm, and it felt as though he had splinters growing in the upper portion.  His eyelids were heavy, and he couldn’t quite get them to open, and Harry tried to escape back into the peace and warmth of sleep.

            The poking wouldn’t stop, and soon it became quite insistent.  Harry peeled his eyes open to find himself looking into two glowing, green orbs.  He let out a startled yell, and tried to back away from the orbs, when a sharp pain shot up his arm, leaving him breathless.

            “Get off!” he yelled.  Then, Harry recognized the orbs as eyes, as a very familiar pair of eyes.  “Dobby?”

            The elf had a single tear rolling down his cheek, and he looked utterly devastated.  “Harry Potter _________________________.”

            “I’m sorry, Dobby, but I don’t know what you’re saying.  It’s really dark in here, and I still struggle with reading elves’ lips,” Harry said.

            With a snap, glowing silver words flowed around them, and Harry was able to see the elf in all of his disgusting glory.  His pillowcase looked filthier than it had before school started, and his fingers were wrapped completely in bandages.

            “Harry Potter has come back to Hogwarts.  Dobby warned Harry Potter.  Ah sir, why didn’t you heed Dobby?  Why didn’t Harry Potter go back home when he missed the train?”

Harry raised an eyebrow and managed to lift himself into a sitting position with his left hand.  “How did you know that I missed the train?”

            Dobby’s lip trembled, and great big tears started rolling down the elf’s cheeks.

            “Hang on, it was you that sealed the barrier, wasn’t it?”

            “Indeed yes, sir,” said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, his ears flapping wildly.  “Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway and Dobby had to iron his hands afterward” —he showed Harry his ten, long, bandaged fingers— “but Dobby didn’t care, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe, and never did Dobby think that Harry Potter would come to school anyway!”

            The elf was rocking backward and forward, his tears running down his cheeks faster.  He shook his head, and great sobs came out of his little body.

            “Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master’s dinner burn!  Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir . . . “

            “You nearly killed Ron and me.  It was lucky that Ron thought of contacting Aunt Minnie, or I would have died in that station.”

            Dobby blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore, looking so pathetic that Harry felt his anger ebb away in spite of himself.  He didn’t like to threaten other people or creatures, but this was one of the few times that he was tempted.  Rather than suggest that Dobby leave before his arm was healed, Harry said, “I am so sorry that your master’s force you to wear that.”

            “Tis the mark of a house elf, sir,” Dobby said, tugging at the pillowcase.

            “No, it’s the mark of house elf being abused.  Kreacher’s our house elf, and he is encouraged to wear a clean uniform.  We would never force him to wear a pillowcase,” Harry responded.

            Dobby’s lip trembled, and more tears spilled out onto his cheeks.  “Harry Potter is so great!  That is why Harry Potter should not have come back to Hogwarts!  Harry Potter must go home!  Dobby thought his Bludger would be enough to make—”

            “Hang on, your Bludger?”  Harry’s anger rose again, but he forced himself to take a deep breath and keep his voice level.  “What do you mean your Bludger?  You made that Bludger try to kill me?”

            “Not kill you, sir, never kill you,” Dobby said, shocked.  “Dobby wants to save Harry Potter’s life!  Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, sir!  Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be sent home!  Dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure Harry Potter.”

            “You do realize that seriously injuring me could cause my death, right?” Harry said with one eyebrow raised.  “You’re lucky that I didn’t die when I hit the barrier at King’s Cross.  I don’t suppose you could tell me why you want me to go home.”

            Dobby wrung his hands as his gaze shifted around the room.  “It is difficult for Dobby to say.  Terrible things are about to happen at Hogwarts, are perhaps happening already, and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more—"

            The elf froze, horrorstruck, then grabbed Harry’s water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight.  A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed and muttering, “Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby . . . “

            “So there is a Chamber of Secrets?” Harry whispered.  “And—did you say it had been opened before?”

            Dobby’s hand inched towards the water jug, and Harry grabbed the elf’s hand in his.  “Why would the person who opened the Chamber be after me?”

            “Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby,” he stammered, his eyes huge in the dark.  “Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen—go home, Harry Potter, go home.  Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir, ‘tis too dangerous—”

            “Who is it, Dobby?” Harry asked, keeping a firm hold on Dobby’s wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again.  “Who’s opened it?  Who opened it last time?”  
            “Dobby can’t, sir, Dobby can’t, Dobby mustn’t tell!” squealed the elf.  “Go home, Harry Potter, go home!”

            “I’m not going anywhere!” said Harry fiercely.  “One of my best friends is muggleborn; she’ll be first in line if the Chamber really has been opened—”

            “Harry Potter risks his own life for his friends!” moaned Dobby in a kind of miserable ecstasy.  “So noble!  So valiant!  But he must save himself, he must, Harry Potter must not—”

            Dobby suddenly froze, his bat ears quivering.  The elf looked terrified, and with a hurried “Dobby must go!” he apparated away.  Harry’s hand was suddenly clenching thin air, and he slumped back into bed, his eyes scanning the area in search of what had spooked Dobby.

            A moment later, Harry watched as Professor McGonagall backed into the room, carrying one end of what looked like a statue.  Regulus appeared, holding the other end, carrying its feet.  Together, they heaved it onto a bed.  Through the darkness, Harry suddenly recognized Colin, the little first-year Gryffindor that he had befriended.

            Harry leapt out of bed, ignoring the wave of pain in his right arm, as he made his way over to the newest patient in the hospital wing.  “What happened?” Harry asked.

            Aunt Minnie jumped, whirling on Harry with her wand pointed at his face.  **“Oh, Harry, you startled me.  Why don’t you run and get Madame Pomfrey?”**

            Moving past his bed, Harry entered the little office, and shook his Aunt Poppy awake, where she lay on a bed in the corner.  “Are you alright, piccolo?” she asked sleepily.

            “Aunt Minnie and Regulus brought Colin up here.  They told me to go and get you,” he said.

            The two of them hurried back into the hospital wing, and Aunt Poppy let out a gasp, or what Harry assumed was a gasp.

            “What happened?” she whispered to Minerva as she bent over the still form of Colin Creevey.

            **“Another attack,”** Regulus said solemnly.  **“Minerva found him on the stairs.”**

            **“There was a bunch of grapes next to him,”** said Aunt Minnie.  **“We think he was trying to sneak up here to visit you, Harry, dear.”**

            Harry’s stomach gave a terrible lurch, and he turned his head away from the sight of his little friend.  Colin looked so tiny and pale, lying in the bed like that, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty.  If he hadn’t gotten hurt, maybe Colin wouldn’t be petrified in the hospital bed.

            Turning back to his friend, Harry realized that Colin was holding his ever-present camera.  “Perhaps Colin managed to get a picture of his attacker before he was petrified,” Harry suggested quietly.

            Regulus wrenched the camera from Colin’s rigid grasp and opened the back of the camera.

            “Good gracious!” Aunt Poppy cried as a jet of steam hissed out of the camera.  The distinct smell of burnt plastic assaulted Harry’s nose.

            “Melted,” said Aunt Poppy.  “All melted . . . “

            **“What do you suppose this means?”** Aunt Minnie asked the other two adults.

            Harry thought about the visit from Dobby followed by Colin being found on the stairs, petrified.  He also thought about what the elf had said about the Chamber of Secrets.  “Dobby, the Malfoy’s house elf, was in here just before you came in with Colin,” he said slowly.  “He told me that terrible things would be happening at Hogwarts, if they weren’t already happening.  He also said something about the Chamber of Secrets being opened before.  I think the Chamber really is open, and whatever it is, whatever thing can speak Parseltongue, is attacking students.”

            Aunt Poppy clapped her hand over her mouth, and Aunt Minnie and Regulus were staring at Harry.  Then, they exchanged a glance.

            **“Who could have opened the Chamber?”** Aunt Minnie whispered.

            **“Maybe, rather than who, we should be looking for how it was opened,”** suggested Regulus.  **“There has to be an opening, and if the monster inside does speak Parseltongue, then it would make sense that the opening could only be opened by a Parselmouth.”**


	12. Chapter 12

            The news that Colin Creevey had been attacked and was now lying as though dead in the hospital wing had spread through the entire school by Monday morning.  The air was suddenly thick with rumor and suspicion.  The first years were now moving around the castle in tight-knit groups, as though scared they would be attacked if they ventured alone.

            Ginny Weasley, who sat next to Colin in Charms, was distraught, considerably more so than the rest of their friends.  However, Harry felt that Fred and George were going the wrong way about cheering her up.  They were taking turns covering themselves with fur or boils and jumping out at her from behind statues.  They only stopped when Percy, apoplectic with rage, told them he was going to write to Mrs. Weasley and tell her Ginny was having nightmares.

            Harry felt sick any time he thought about his friend sitting up in the hospital wing, petrified because he was sneaking up to visit him.  Blaise tried to convince Harry that it wasn’t his fault, but Harry was rather stubborn about things like that.  In the end, the other Slytherins just avoided the topic whenever they could, and glared at anybody who dared to bring up Colin’s name.  Harry’s nightmares were getting worse.  Now, he saw Neville dead, with Colin by his side as he killed Quirrell.  He knew that he was screaming in his sleep because of his aching throat every morning.  However, Harry always put a Silencing Charm around his bed, making sure that none of his roommates woke up each time he screamed.  His school work was starting to become sloppier, and he was falling asleep in class, particularly Lockhart’s, to the point that Hermione dug her sharp elbows into his side at least three times a day.  There was even a rather funny incident when Harry dozed off in the middle of eating treacle tart, and smeared the dessert all over his face.

            Meanwhile, the rest of the school was panicking.  Hidden from the teachers, a roaring trade in talismans, amulets, and other protective devices was sweeping the school.  Neville bought a large, evil-smelling green onion, a pointed purple crystal, and a rotting newt tail before the others pointed out that he was in no danger; he was a pureblood, and therefore unlikely to be attacked.

            “They went for Filch first,” Neville said, his round face fearful.  “And everyone knows I’m almost a Squib.”

            Harry, however, shook his head.  “You’re not almost a Squib, Neville.  You’re using your dad’s wand, which means it won’t ever work right for you.  You need to convince your Gran to let you get your own wand, and I bet you’ll see a definite improvement in your spellwork.”

            Neville beamed at Harry, and agreed to write home to his Gran, hoping that he would be able to visit Ollivander’s during the holidays.

 

* * *

 

            The second week of December, Severus went around to all of the Slytherins, collecting the names of those who would be staying at school for Christmas.  Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Draco all decided to stay for Christmas, as did Crabbe and Goyle.  Of the Gryffindors, the Weasleys were staying, not wanting to go to Egypt.  They decided to experience a Hogwarts Christmas at least once.

            When asked, Draco would say that he was staying over the holidays to get ahead in his studies.  However, Hermione knew that her friend was a little afraid to go home to his father.  He had told their friends that Lucius Malfoy had been boasting about some sort of plot that would take place at Hogwarts, and Draco was sure his father meant the Chamber of Secrets.  Draco had also found out that his father had voted against Harry at the hearing earlier during the summer.

            December seemed to pass quickly, without any more attacks on students.  The only exciting thing to happen was an explosion in Potions, causing most of the class to swell.  Thankfully, the Swelling Solution had a rather simple antidote, and soon enough, Harry’s foot was back to normal.  It was a little humorous seeing Draco with an inflated forehead, and Ron’s nose growing faster than Pinocchio.

            When Professor Snape dug out the twisted, black remains of a firework out of Seamus’s cauldron, the class fell silent.

            “If I ever find out who threw this,” Severus whispered, “I shall make sure that person is expelled.”

            A week after the explosive incident, Harry was walking across the Entrance Hall, talking with Neville and Luna, when they saw a small knot of people gathered around the notice board.  A new announcement had just been pinned up, and the group seemed to be talking rather excitedly about it.  Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas beckoned them over.

            “They’re starting a Dueling club!” said Seamus.  “First meeting tonight!  I wouldn’t mind dueling lessons; they might come in handy one of these days . . . “

            Privately, Harry thought that Seamus was right, though not for the reason that the Irish boy thought.  He knew about the Horcruxes, and he knew it was only a matter of time before Voldemort managed to return in full strength.  Dueling would, indeed, be a handy skill to have.

            Neville laughed a little.  “I don’t reckon Slytherin’s monster knows how to duel.  But it sounds like fun.”

            Luna nodded airily.  “It’s not a matter of how fast you can cast spells, but who you have guarding your back, you know.”

            Harry nodded thoughtfully, though Dean and Seamus looked at the blonde girl like she was sprouting a second head.  “I think we should go.  I’m sure everyone else would like to, as well,” he said, deciding to tell them all over dinner.

            Of course, the Snake Club was excited, and so, at eight o’ clock that evening, they came up from the dungeons, laughing at a joke the twins had told.  When they entered the Great Hall, they were surprised to see all of the long dining tables gone and a golden stage gracing one wall, lit by thousands of tiny candles floating overhead.  The ceiling was a velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

            “I wonder who will be teaching us,” Hermione asked as the group edged their way into the crowd.  “Flitwick is always talking about his time on the dueling circuit—maybe it’ll be him.”

            Fred gave her a wide smile and answered in halting sign language.  **I would like to see Snape and McGonagall fight.**

            Harry snorted at that thought.  He answered, **I don’t know who would win.  But I don’t think that winning is the point of this club.  They would do a quick demonstration, and then teach us.  I just hope it’s not Lockhart.**

Both twins grimaced at the thought of the blonde ponce teaching the club.  He was not well-liked among Harry’s friends.

            **“You’re getting much better at signing, Fred,”** Hermione said with a smile.  **“You didn’t make any horrible mistakes, and your grammar was well done.”**

            **Professor Sable is a good teacher** , George signed.

            Harry nodded emphatically.  “He’s the one that helped me learn how to sign.  When I went deaf, Mr. Sable was the one to get books on BSL and we learned together.”

            “Blimey, I didn’t know that,” Lee said from George’s left.

            “He’s been a friend of mine ever since I was seven years old.  He was one of the few adults that cared for me when I was living with the Dursleys.”

            Harry turned to the stage, to wait for the meeting to start and missed the looks of anger on his friends’ faces at the mention of the Dursleys.  He didn’t mention them very often because he knew how upset they got.  The last thing he wanted was to have his friends be angry and treat him differently for having such rotten relatives.

            Putting his hand in his pocket, Harry got out a small container of apple slices, and started to munch on them, as a way to help his appetite grow.  He was eating much more, almost to the average portion size, and Hermione and Ron were ecstatic that their friend was finally starting to gain some weight.  He was still extremely small, smaller even, then Colin Creevey, but he was starting to grow.  In the past few months since the start of school, Harry had gained two pounds and had grown a centimeter.

            The small knot of students, made up of all four Houses, let out a loud groan as Lockhart swept into the room, his robes of deep plum billowing out behind him.  Accompanying him, was none other than Severus Snape, wearing his usual all-black robes.

            “Gather round, gather round!” Lockhart cried as he waved an arm for silence.  Harry watched as Hermione signed along.  “Can everyone see me?  Can you all hear me?  Excellent!”

            Harry put his hand in the air, waving it to get his professor’s attention.  “I’m sorry, sir, but I can’t hear you.  Could you speak up, please?”

            Out of the corner of his eye, Harry could see his friends hiding grins and trying not to snicker out loud.  Lockhart merely smiled and boomed out, “Of course, Harry m’boy.  Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little dueling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I myself have done on countless occasions—for full details, see my published works.

            “Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape,” said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile.  “He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about dueling himself and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin.  Now, I don’t want any of you youngsters to worry—you’ll still have your Potions master when I’m through with him, never fear!”

            Harry noticed one of the Hufflepuffs lean over to his friend and whisper, “Wouldn’t it be good if they finished each other off?”  Harry was torn between wanting to laugh and wanting to glare at the Hufflepuff, since the boy was wanting Severus to be offed as much as Lockhart.

            Severus Snape, however, was not having an enjoyable time.  He had only volunteered to prevent Lockhart from doing something foolish, particularly in regards to Harry.  He knew that, if allowed, Lockhart would force Harry to “volunteer” and put him in a dangerous position.  Harry watched as Snape’s lip curled in a sneer.

            Lockhart and Severus turned to face each other and bowed; at least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands, whereas Severus jerked his head irritably.  Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

            “As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position,” Lockhart told the silent crowd.  “On the count of three, we will cast our first spells.  Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course.”

            **A right shame that is.  It would be nice if Snape got rid of Lockhart for us** , Ron signed.

            Harry hid a snicker behind his hand, and turned to watch the two professors duel each other.

            “One—two—three—”

            Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent; Severus cried: _“Ex__________!_ ”  There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet.  He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

            Draco, Pansy, Ron, and several other Slytherins cheered.  Fred and George said in unison, “Wicked,” and Hermione was looking rather concerned.  Harry was concerned, too, since he didn’t want Lockhart to be injured, regardless of how much he disliked the man.

            Lockhart got to his feet unsteadily.  His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.  His wand was nowhere to be seen.

            “Well, there you have it!” he said, tottering back onto the platform.  “That was a Disarming Charm—as you see, I’ve lost my wand—ah, thank you, Miss Brown—yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape, but if you don’t mind my saying so, it was very obvious what you were about to do.  If I had wanted to stop you it would have been only too easy—however, I felt it would be instructive to let them see . . . “

            Severus was looking rather murderous.  In all likelihood, Lockhart hadn’t noticed, though it was just as likely that the man ignored the look being sent his way, because he said, “Enough demonstrating!  I’m going to come amongst you now and put you all into pairs.  Professor Snape, if you’d like to help me—”

            They moved through the crowd, matching up partners.  Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape reached the rest of the Snake Club first.

            “Let’s see, it would be prudent to split up the twins; no need to set the room on fire, after all.”  Hermione was paired with George, while Fred was paired with Draco.  “Now, Harry, let’s pair you with Mr. Zabini, and Mr. Weasley, it might be best if you don’t participate just yet.  Dueling is rather dangerous, and we wouldn’t want your wand to backfire or hurt anyone.”

            Ron looked a little put-out, but accepted Professor Snape’s wisdom in this case.  The rest were paired up quickly.  Hannah with Susan and Daphne with Pansy respectively.  Millicent was paired up with Theo, and Lee was sent over to work with Angelina Johnson.  Ginny was paired with Luna, since they were the only first years in the group with Colin in the hospital wing.

            “Face your partners!” called Lockhart, which Blaise interpreted for Harry.  “And bow!”

            Harry and Blaise bowed to each other, mimicking the flourishes that Lockhart had performed during the demonstration.  They started to laugh, and had to quiet their giggles when Severus looked at them sharply.

            “Wands at the ready!” shouted Lockhart.  “When I count to three, cast your charms to Disarm your opponents— _only_ to disarm them—we don’t want any accidents—one . . . two . . . three—”

            Blaise shot a little smirk at Harry, and at two, a spell was already heading the boy’s way.  Harry stumbled from the impact of the spell, and tripped over his feet.  Blaise had hit him with a Tripping Jinx, the prat!  Not one to be outdone, Harry pointed his wand at Blaise, and nonverbally cast a spell at Blaise.

            A jet of silver light hit the taller boy in the stomach, and he doubled over, wheezing.

            _“I said Disarm only_!” Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd.  No one paid him any attention, as most of the Snake Club was using various jinxes and hexes.

            Blaise had sunk to the ground; Harry had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing.  Harry hung back, deciding it would be unsporting if he bewitched Blaise while he was on the floor.  However, he had underestimated Blaise, and the bigger boy pointed his wand at Harry’s knees, chocked out a spell, and the next second, Harry’s legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep.

            Lockhart was frantically trying to get the group to stop.  Hermione had Weasley orange hair while George was sporting a rather impressive beard.  Fred and Draco were still dueling, the only pair to actually try to use the Disarming Charm interspersed with other spells, to no effect.  Luna had bats crawling out of her nose, and she looked at them with vague interest before twirling her wand and causing Ginny’s fingernails to grow alarmingly fast.

            Severus pointed his wand into the air and let out a loud bang, startling most of the students in the Great Hall.  “ _Finite Incantatem!”_ he shouted; Harry’s feet stopped dancing, Blaise stopped laughing, and everyone else’s jinxes were reversed.

            “Dear, dear,” said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels.  “Up you go, Macmillan . . . Careful there, Miss Fawcett . . . Pinch it hard, it’ll stop bleeding in a second, Boot—

            “I think I’d better teach you how to _block_ unfriendly spells,” said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall.  He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away.  “Let’s have a volunteer pair—Longbottom and Finch-Fletchley, how about you—”

            “A bad idea, Professor Lockhart,” said Snape, gliding over to the Defense Professor.  “Longbottom has not mastered simple spells, and it wouldn’t be wise to have these two as your demonstrating pair.  I suggest students with a bit more experience.  Malfoy and Weasley, perhaps?”

            Fred brightened at the idea of dueling in the spotlight, and eagerly hopped onto the stage, while Draco followed a bit more reluctantly.  Lockhart was striding along, shouting exuberantly, “Excellent idea, Professor Snape!”

            “Now, Mr. Weasley,” said Lockhart.  “When Draco points his wand at you, you do _this_.”

            He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it.  Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, “Whoops—my wand is a little overexcited—”

            Severus moved closer to Draco, bent down, and whispered something in his ear.  Draco smirked too.  Fred beamed at the two of them, though everyone could see the mischievous glint in the twin’s eye.  He turned to Lockhart and feigned a helpless student.  “Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?”

            “Scared?” muttered Draco, so that Lockhart couldn’t hear him.

            Fred scoffed.  “As if,” he said out of the corner of his mouth.

            Lockhart clapped Fred merrily on the shoulder.  “Just do what I did, m’boy!”

            “What, drop my wand?” Fred cried loudly, his hand over his heart in distress.

            Lockhart flushed brightly, and decided to not respond.  “Three—two—one—go!” he shouted instead.

            Fred shot a spell at Draco, hitting the boy in the chest and knocking him backwards.  When Draco climbed to his feet, he realized that his feet had been switched, so that his right foot was now where his left foot was supposed to be.  He glared at Fred before raising his wand and bellowing, _“Serpensortia_!”

            Harry was surprised when he actually heard that spell.  It was one of the few times he had heard something at Hogwarts, and he was rather confused.  Or, at least he was, until a long black snake shot out of the end of Draco’s wand and fell heavily to the floor between the two duelers.  The snake seemed agitated, and it raised itself up, ready to strike.  There were screams as the crowd backed away swiftly.

            Harry started pushing his way through the crowd of students, knowing that he was one of the few people that could take care of the snake without it hurting anyone.

            “Don’t move, Weasley,” said Severus, concern in his voice, though he was enjoying the sight of Fred Weasley standing motionless.  It wasn’t often that one of the Weasley twins was beaten into any kind of submission

            Harry finally broke through the crowd and darted onto the stage, just as Lockhart brandished his wand at the snake.  Instead of vanishing, it flew into the air and fell back to the floor with a smack.  Enraged, hissing furiously, it slithered straight to the edge of the stage, where Justin Finch-Fletchley was standing, terrified.  The snake raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

            _“Wait, don’t hurt him_ ,” Harry called out.  _“He didn’t hurt you.”_

            The snake immediately lowered itself and turned to look at Harry, who was now crouching nearby.  “ _Are you a speaker?”_ it hissed.

            _“Yes, I am.  Come over to me, and I’ll help you find a nice home, where no one will hurt you again.”_

            The snake seemed to accept this, since it turned its back to Justin and slithered over to Harry, climbing his arm, and wrapping itself around the boy’s neck.  Harry immediately turned to Justin.

            “I’m so sorry, Justin.  He was scared, and just wanted to attack the closest person.  He won’t hurt anybody now,” Harry said to the frozen Hufflepuff.

            Justin still looked terrified, but he didn’t look scared of Harry.  Rather, he was scared of the snake that was enjoying the warmth from the small boy’s body.  “How did you do that?” he asked softly.  “Won’t the snake bite you?”

            Harry smiled at the Hufflepuff.  “No, he won’t do anything to me.  Snakes only attack people when they’re scared or hurt.  My family comes from India, and there have been a few Parselmouths.  Parseltongue runs in the Potter side, and I got lucky with the genes, I guess,” Harry answered honestly.

            There were a lot of students in the hall that were looking at Harry with fear in their eyes.  He could see mentions of the chamber, flying from lip to lip.  Some of them even said things like, “Heir of Slytherin,” and “attacked that poor Creevey boy.”

            Fred waved to get Harry’s attention.  “Is it safe for me to come closer,” he asked quietly.

            Harry nodded and Fred came over, grabbing Harry’s arm, as well as Draco’s, pulling them off of the stage and into the crowd.  The students parted before them, most of them whispering behind their hands.  They approached their group of friends, and Fred jerked his head in the direction of the doors.  They needed to have a group meeting, preferably with Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Sable present.

            Half an hour later, they were all gathered in Professor McGonagall’s quarters, Sirius and Remus’s heads floating in the fire in order to participate in the conversation.

            “Alright, tell me exactly what’s been going on,” Sirius said to Harry.

            Harry explained all about the rogue Bludger, Dobby visiting him in the hospital wing, the mysterious voice called Nagammai, and how the Chamber had been opened before.  “I’m pretty sure that Nagammai is some kind of snake, since I can actually hear her.  She also called herself the “mother of snakes” or something like that.  Hermione and I have been researching that, but so far, we haven’t found anything.”

            Remus spoke up, speaking slowly so Harry could read his lips through the fire.  “Have you talked to Kaida to find out if she’s sensed anything?  After all, she can speak Parseltongue, and has stronger senses than you do.”

            “That’s a good idea.  I think Kaida’s currently napping in the fire in the Slytherin common room.  I can go talk to her after we’re done here,” said Harry.

            The snake on Harry’s shoulders shifted, almost as if he was stretching.  “Also, what should we do with this snake,” he asked Severus and Aunt Minnie.

            “I could always vanish it,” said Severus.

            Harry was already shaking his head at that idea.  “I promised him that no one would hurt him anymore.  We need another option that would be beneficial for him.”

            “We could always just let him go in the Dark Forest,” suggested Aunt Minnie.

            Harry frowned thoughtfully.  _“Would you want to live in the Dark Forest?”_ he hissed at the snake.

            _“You are a Speaker, and a kind one.  You have my loyalty,”_ the snake hissed back.

            _“Thank you, but would you enjoy living out in the Dark Forest?  It’s near the castle, and I’m sure I could visit occasionally,”_ Harry said.

            _“If you give me the choice, I would like to stay with you in this castle,”_ the snake responded.

            Harry turned to his guardians.  “He says he wants to stay with me,” he said calmly.

            Severus let out a big sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.  “Are you going to get a new, dangerous pet every year,” he asked.

            Harry beamed at his Head of House, and petted the snake’s head.  _“They said you can stay with me.  You’re going to need a name, and we’ll need to set some basic rules.”_

            _“I am called Death,”_ the snake said.

            _“I don’t think I want to call you Death,”_ Harry said with a giggle.  _“It would be rather awkward if I went through the halls shouting Death!”_   He thought for a moment.  _“How about Anubis?  He’s the Egyptian god of death, and your black scales work perfectly for that name.”_

            The snake slithered around his shoulders in excitement.  He definitely liked his new name.

            _“Now, for rules, you can’t just go anywhere you please.  There are a lot of people that are terrified of snakes, and they won’t be happy to find you nearby.  I don’t want you to get hurt, and I don’t want them to get hurt.  If someone scares you, try to escape immediately.  Under no circumstances are you to bite anyone,”_ Harry hissed.

            Then, turning to his friends and guardians, he said, “Hey everyone, meet Anubis.  He’s going to be staying with me.”

            Lee immediately bounced over, and petted Anubis’s shiny scales.  “This is so wicked, Harry!  I mean, I thought I was different for bringing a tarantula as a pet, but you’ve got me beat.  A Cerberus, a dragon, and now, a viper?  You’re going to turn out to be just like Hagrid soon.”

            Minerva was the only one that heard Severus’s muttered, “Salazar, I hope not.”  She had to hide her grin behind her hand.

            Sirius called out to try to get Harry’s attention, before realizing that the boy couldn’t hear him.  Hermione, however, turned Harry towards the fireplace, so that Sirius could talk to his godson.

            “I think it’s okay if you tell your friends about your magical abilities and Heirships.  Just make sure they promise to not go around spreading rumors about you.  If you trust them, then I trust your judgement, pup.”

            Harry nodded and turned to face the eclectic group of friends.  “This summer, Remus and Sirius took me to do the Heir procedure, and I found out that I am Heir to three Most Ancient Houses and one Ancient House.  I am Lord Black-Peverell-Slytherin-Potter.”  His friends gasped at the news.  Harry really was the Heir of Slytherin, although not a single one of them thought that he was the one attacking students.  They all knew how broken up he had been about Colin’s attack.

            “I am also Secondary Heir to the Houses of Malfoy and Longbottom, in case either of you end up unable to take over.”  Neville and Draco both nodded their heads in acceptance.  It made sense that Harry was the Secondary Heir.  “I have several magical abilities.  Parseltongue, you all know about.  I also have some skill in Parselmagic, which I assume was the spell that conjured Anubis, since I could hear it.  The procedure also said that I have Life and Death Magic, though I’m not sure what those magics include.”

            Blaise spoke up, his eyes alight with excitement.  “I’ve heard of those powers.  If you have Life Magic, you are able to sense and see other people’s magic, which explains why you’re able to tell Fred and George apart.  Life usually also comes with a blessing, though no one knows what it is, since that magic is so rarely documented.  Death Magic, you are able to touch and interact with ghosts as though they are living, and you can also help them move on, if they so choose.  It’s also rumored that you can communicate with loved ones that have passed on.”

            Blaise interrupted then.  “It’s a really rare ability, Harry.  My family is descended from Merlin, and we were told that he was the last known person to be able to control ambient magic in large quantities.”

            “Wait, does that mean that you could banish Peeves from the castle,” Severus said with a malicious grin.

            “I don’t know, Sev.  I’ve never really heard about these kinds of powers before,” answered Harry.  The room was quiet for several minutes before Sirius caught his godson’s eye.

            “It might also be a good idea to tell them about the Horcrux,” he said softly.

            Draco whipped his head around to stare at Sirius.  “What do you mean, the Horcrux?” he asked, his voice an octave higher from fear.

            Harry gently placed his hand on Draco’s shoulder.  “It’s okay, we’re working on the problem.  The thing is, the night at Godric’s Hollow, when Voldemort tried to kill me, he ended up placing a piece of his soul in my head.  For those of you who don’t know, a Horcrux is a really evil piece of magic that can only be performed after someone has torn their soul apart through murder.  It’s nearly impossible to kill someone if they have a Horcrux, since the objects that house the person’s soul are incredibly difficult to destroy.  Incidentally, that was also the night that I became the Heir of Slytherin by conquest, when I defeated Voldemort.

            “When we went to Gringotts, the goblins were able to remove the Horcrux.  We then told them about the other Horcrux that Sirius and Remus found when they were cleaning Grimmauld Place.  It was a large, golden locket with a serpentine S on it.  They were able to destroy that one as well.

            “We doubt that those were the only Horcruxes that Voldemort made, and we assume that he will be returned to full power sometime soon.  A war is coming, and we need to be prepared.  I know that some of your parents are going to join with Voldemort, and none of us will hold it against you if you decide to remain neutral in the war.  No one wants to risk fighting their own family,” said Harry.

            The Slytherins all exchanged looks, many of them with their eyebrows raised.  Draco was the one to speak for them all.  “I think Theo and I are the only ones with parents that actively participated in the first war, but we’ve actually talked about it.  When You-Know-Who comes back, we will be standing with you, even if it means fighting against our parents.”

            Blaise added, “My father has already pledged his loyalty to your House, and I stand by that pledge.  We are all Snakes or Honorary Snakes here, and we protect our friends.”

            Sirius spoke up from the fire, “It might be a good idea to start teaching these kids Occlumency, Severus.  I know you’re the most accomplished out of all of us, except maybe Narcissa.  It would help keep Voldemort from learning about Harry’s abilities and the Slytherin’s loyalties.”

            “Agreed.  I can set aside a time on Saturday mornings to teach anyone that wants to learn,” said Severus.

            “Pup, I want you to take these lessons seriously.  Everyone in this room knows that Voldemort is going to come back, and you need to be prepared for that eventuality,” Sirius said seriously.

            “I will, Padfoot,” said Harry, putting his hand over his heart.

 

* * *

 

            It seemed as though the whole school was talking about the Dueling Club, particularly how the snake had attacked Justin and how Harry had spoken to it.

            “Potter spoke to the snake?” one student would say.

            “Saw it with my own eyes.  Heard it, too.  Right scary, that was,” said another.

            “I saw him chasing the snake towards that Hufflepuff,” another would say.

            “You know, Salazar Slytherin was one of the most famous Parselmouths,” the first said.

            “And Potter is in Slytherin.  Reckon he might be the Heir?” said the third.

            Harry noticed these conversations in the hallways, and did his best to ignore them.  He didn’t see the students that, after he had passed, would run the opposite direction in order to get away from him.  If he had, he might have become more disheartened.  As it was, he did his best to talk to his friends and make sure that they believed him.  Fred and George would often make jokes as Harry passed in the halls.

            “Bow before the terrifying Heir of Slytherin.”

            “Make way for the Heir of Slytherin.  Seriously evil wizard coming through.”

            “I bet he eats the hearts of little baby snakes for breakfast.”

            Harry would giggle every time, thanking the twins for making the situation seem lighter.  Hermione was more inclined to scold them, especially since Harry really was the Heir of Slytherin, and they had promised to not tell anyone.  However, Harry wasn’t worried, and if he was happy, then she wasn’t going to yell at the two troublemakers.  Besides, if they were able to prove who was impersonating the Heir, then the students would be more likely to think that Harry really was the Heir.

            The only thing that seemed to get Harry down, was how the Hufflepuffs were all avoiding him.  They had always been fairly friendly, though several were rather pompous.  Cedric Diggory, a boy in the twins’ year, was extremely kind and would stop to practice his sign language with Harry, but there were other older students that were spreading the rumors about Harry’s evilness.  One in particular, a Robert Fairview, liked to yell loudly in the Great Hall that he had always suspected Harry to be a Dark Wizard.  He would also shout that the boy hated muggles and muggleborns, and to avoid him if you had any family that came from the non-wizarding world.

            Thankfully, Hannah and Susan had taken it upon themselves to defend Harry at every opportunity.

            “You’ve never even spoken to him!” Susan would shout.  “You don’t know him at all!”

            Hannah would add, “He has two muggleborn friends!  And, he’s been absolutely torn up about Colin’s attack!  If anyone’s the muggle-hater, it’s you, Robert Fairview.  I know that you only took Muggle Studies to find out if the muggles were planning on taking over the world and how to best fight them off.”

            Justin Finch-Fletchley seemed to be steering clear of Harry, since the only time they ever saw each other was during their shared classes.  And even then, Justin would sit as far away as possible from Harry and the other Slytherins.  It seemed as though he was scared that if he looked at Harry, he would fall over dead.

            **“Don’t worry about him, mate,”** said Ron after History of Magic not long after the Dueling Club incident.  **“He’s not worth worrying over.”**

            “Ron, I’m worried that he’s going to be the next victim.  The whole school knows that the snake almost attacked Justin, and he would be the perfect high-profile victim for the imposter to attack.  It makes it seem more likely that I am the one attacking other students, which will open the way for more panic and hysteria,” Harry responded, wringing his hands as he watched Justin walk off in the middle of a large group of Hufflepuffs.

            **“If you’re so worried about it, you should just tell Snape or McGonagall,”** said Ron, shrugging Harry’s concerns to the side.

            However, Ron’s idea was a good one, especially since most of the Hufflepuff house wasn’t talking to him.  Justin needed to be protected in any way.  Harry decided to speak to the two professors, as well as Professor Sprout the next day, since it was nearly dinner.

            The Great Hall was rather solemn, and there were many students that sent glares towards the Slytherin table.  Harry kept his head down, focusing on eating, though he didn’t have much of an appetite.  He was too worried about Justin and Colin and even Mrs. Norris.  He was worried that whatever was hurting students would escalate to killing.

            Harry spent the evening going through the history books that he had checked out of the library.  He had been searching for any mention of the Chamber of Secrets, specifically being opened in the last hundred years.  Dobby hadn’t been specific about when it had been opened before, only that it had been.  Hermione and Draco helped with his research, each looking for a mention of what the monster was, and looking for any mention of the “mother of snakes.”  Blaise, Theo, and Pansy would occasionally help, but Ron refused to pick up a book that he didn’t need for an assignment.

            The next morning, Harry was sitting in the common room in front of the fireplace, signing with the mermaids outside the window.  There was one that he had become particular friends with, and they would often spend time chatting in the early mornings.  He had asked her about the Chamber, but she had told him that the merpeople did not interfere with the affairs of Hogwarts.  Quite suddenly, his friend hissed and darted away, startling Harry.  Two sets of hands landed on his shoulders, causing him to jump.

            “George, Fred.  What are you doing here?” asked Harry, rather surprised.  The twins didn’t normally spend time in the Slytherin common room, unless there was a game night or they needed to discuss something important.

            **We figured you would want to know.  There was another attack last night.  A double attack,** signed George.

            “A double attack?  Was anybody killed?” Harry cried.

            The twins exchanged a glance.  Fred answered.  **Not exactly.  Justin Finch-Fletchley was petrified, just like Colin and Mrs. Norris.  But Sir Nicholas looked all burned.  His head had flopped onto the ground and his eyes were really wide and he looked really scared.**

“I knew it,” Harry said softly.  “I knew that Justin would be the next victim.  He would be the obvious choice to frame me after the fiasco of the Dueling Club.”  He was quiet for a moment before the other thing that Fred had signed registered.  “Wait, Sir Nicholas was attacked?  What can attack a ghost?”

            Both twins shrugged.  They were just as clueless as the rest of the school.

            “I hope we find something soon.  I don’t want think of what would happen if somebody was killed,” said Harry, staring into the fire.


	13. Chapter 13

            Quirrell stood in front of the Mirror of Erised, while a strange hissing noise filled the chamber.  Harry was tied up on his back, not far from the Mirror, watching in horror as the teacher unraveled the turban on his head.  The face that appeared was grotesque and disturbing.  It was pale, with red eyes and slits for nostrils.  Next to Harry, was a dark figure, a pool of blood around the person’s head.  Harry was looking at the figure, tears slipping down his cheeks.  Upon closer inspection, it was revealed that the figure was one Professor Severus Snape, his already pale face a ghostly white.  Blood was pouring from his temple, and his black eyes were open, glazed over with death.

            With a gasp, Severus pulled back out of Harry’s memories, his hands trembling as he lowered his wand. 

            Harry heaved in breath after breath, his lungs burning from the effort.  Severus’s black eyes stared at him with concern as he watched the young Slytherin try to recover.  Harry looked rather pale, and sweat was pouring down his face, soaking into his Weasley sweater.

            “Again,” Harry said once he had caught his breath enough to speak.

            Severus, however, set his wand on the table, deciding that they had worked on Occlumency enough for the evening.  There was only so much Harry could handle in a night, and they had passed it hours before.  He grabbed Harry’s arm gently, and guided him into a chair before summoning a house elf for refreshments.

            “Harry, you don’t have to push yourself so hard,” Severus said, making sure that the student was looking at him.

            “I promised Padfoot that I would take these lessons seriously.  I know you are worried about Voldemort returning, and I need to make sure I’m prepared for when that happens,” answered Harry.

            “Child, you don’t have to push yourself so hard.  While I admire your dedication, I don’t want you collapsing from exhaustion.  Occlumency is incredibly difficult, and takes a long time to perfect, especially with as traumatic memories as you have,” Severus said quietly.

            During their lesson, Severus had repeatedly tried to probe Harry’s mind, as a test to see if Harry could successfully block him.  Unfortunately, the walls that Harry had built were not nearly as strong as the Potions Master’s Legilimens. 

            “Harry, why don’t we just talk about your classes for the rest of the evening.  We can work on meditation and building your walls at the end, but for now, we need to give your mind a rest.”

            “Okay,” said Harry sullenly.  He really wanted to do well with these lessons, but they were proving to be a struggle.  On the bright side, at least he didn’t have Voldemort sharing his head, so he didn’t have to worry about the Dark Lord tearing down his defenses from the inside.  Harry shuddered to think of what would have happened if he had tried to learn Occlumency while he was still a Horcrux.  “What do you want to talk about?”

            Severus thought for a moment.  “It would be a good idea to learn to identify more dangerous potions.  We could start with Veritaserum.”

            “Ooh, that’s the truth serum, isn’t it?  I borrowed Marcus’s NEWT Potions book and read through it, looking at the different potions.  Polyjuice looks really difficult, but I think Veritaserum is harder.  I mean, you’re working with unicorn tail hairs and boomslang skin, which are both really volatile when they’re combined with billiwig wings.  Then, there’s the moon lace that has to be picked at exactly the right time, or the whole potion is ruined.”

            “It seems that you’re well on your way to becoming a Potions prodigy,” said Severus with a hint of pride in his voice.  In fact, Harry was a prodigy in just about every subject he was taking.  The only one that could beat him in Transfiguration and Charms was Hermione, and the only second year better at Herbology than Harry was Neville Longbottom.

            “I just think that potions are exciting.  I mean, the boomslang skin interacts with the porcupine quills to create a compulsion factor, making Veritaserum extremely difficult to overcome.  Then, the unicorn hairs work as a purity element, which makes everything that comes out of the person’s mouth pure, and the moon lace has always been known to show the truth.  All of these different factors make Veritaserum so powerful.”

            “You are completely correct,” Severus said.  “But you should still learn how to identify if you have been given Veritaserum.  There are a few spells that will reveal if your drink or your food has been tampered with, though your Heir rings will also be invaluable to you.  They protect you from most poisons, which include truth serums.  After all, it is vital that the Heirs survive to adulthood in order to take the Lordships.”

            Harry nodded thoughtfully while Severus grabbed his old NEWT potions textbook with all of his changes made.  They turned to Veritaserum and poured over the recipe, dissecting each section and what each ingredient would do.  Severus went into his storeroom and grabbed a small crystal vial full of the clear potion, so Harry could see what it looked like when it was properly brewed.  They spent the rest of the evening debating the different uses of Veritaserum as well as the ethics involved in the use of the potion.

 

* * *

 

            The next morning, Harry trudged into the Great Hall and sat down next to Hermione, immediately dropping his head on her shoulder and dozing off back to sleep.  She giggled at him as she continued to read through _Gadding with Ghouls_ , pausing frequently to take notes on the parchment next to her or to eat a bit of her breakfast.  The Great Hall was rather empty, and not because it was early in the morning.  It was the first day of the holidays, and most of the student body had immediately signed up to go home, not wanting to stick around in case the monster attacked them.  A good many of the students were talking about not coming back, the muggleborns in particular.

            Since Justin and Sir Nicholas had been found, the panic in the castle had increased exponentially.  All but three of the Hufflepuffs now avoided Harry all the time, believing that he was the one that was attacking everyone.  It was one of the only times that Harry was glad that he was deaf, so he couldn’t hear what people were saying behind his back.  His friends were angry enough on his behalf, and he had to keep them from hexing several students since the Dueling Club incident.

            The few Hufflepuffs that had stayed were sitting with the Ravenclaws, hoping that there would be some safety in numbers.  The older Ravenclaws were glaring at Harry over their breakfast, causing Marcus Flint to growl at them.

            No one noticed the addition of two adults at the Head Table, watching the hostility towards their godson.

            After nearly ten minutes, Hermione finally prodded Harry awake, telling him that he needed to eat and not sleep at breakfast.  He pulled a bowl of oatmeal towards him as well as the blueberries that always seemed to be in reach.  After a few seconds of consideration, he spooned some sugar into the bowl and poured a little bit of cream before mixing it all together and taking a bite.  He didn’t notice the happiness shining on his friends’ faces as they watched him indulging himself.

            They went back to their own breakfasts.  Harry looked at his friends and had to stifle a giggle.  Ron’s eyes were drooping as he cut into his sausages, while Fred was fast asleep on his empty plate.  George was carefully dripping porridge in his brother’s hair, trying not to laugh and wake him up.  The porridge was smeared into the red locks, and dripped onto his cheek and into his open mouth.

            Sirius was watching this with great amusement and chuckled when Fred gave an extra loud snore and swallowed the porridge in his mouth.

            “Remember when we did that to Jamie?”  He nudged Remus with his elbow, causing Remus’s pumpkin juice to spill all over his waffles.

            “Oi!” Remus cried.

            Sirius grinned sheepishly at his best friend.  “Sorry, Moony.”

            Remus just rolled his eyes at Sirius and grabbed a different plate, letting the elves in the kitchen take care of the soggy waffles.  “Of course, I remember doing that to James,” he said.  “He was so mad because we did it right in front of Lily, and he didn’t even realize that he had porridge in his hair until Minnie pointed it out to him during the meeting with the prefects and Head Boy and Girl.”

            Sirius laughed loudly.  “Those were good times.  I wish James and Lily could be here.”

            “I think we all do, Sirius,” said Minerva from a couple seats down.  She, too, was chuckling, remembering James’s face when he realized that he had gone the entire day with porridge decorating his hair.  It was incredible that none of the Slytherins had pointed it out to him, especially Severus.  Minerva glanced over at the Potions Professor and saw him smirking into his cup of tea.

            “Sirius had an idea earlier.  The Dueling Club was a good idea, even if the teacher was the worst choice.  We were thinking of teaching the kids some basic spells and charms that will be helpful in a duel, like the Shield Charm.”

            Minerva smiled at Remus.  “I think that would be a marvelous idea.  You can use my classroom, so long as you replace all of the tables and chairs in the exact same place.”

            The two Marauders smiled and agreed to Minerva’s terms with ease.  They finished their breakfasts quickly, downing their tea and standing up.  After nodding to the two Professors, they made their way to the Slytherin table until they were standing behind Harry.  Sirius put his fingers to his lips when the other students noticed them, and they hid their grins.

            Remus tapped Harry on the shoulder, and the boy jumped violently.  He turned quickly and his face split into a beaming smile.

            “Uncle Moony!  Padfoot!” he cried, startling Fred awake.

            “Hey pup,” said Sirius, smiling widely.  “Aunt Minnie convinced Dumbledore to let us stay here for the holidays, since you weren’t going to be home.  And, we just got permission from Minnie to use her classroom to teach you lot how to duel properly.”

            The Slytherins cheered loudly, startling the other students.  Fred ran his hand through his hair in excitement, one of his many quirks that separated him from George, and pulled his hand away in disgust.  “How did I get porridge in my hair?” he asked the table.  George just laughed at his brother and clapped him on the back.

            They spent the rest of the day practicing the Shield Charm, as jinxes were cast at them.  If it was angled right, they could even rebound the spell onto the caster, leading to Draco growing a duck bill when he tried to curse George.  Fred was discreetly casting curses at Ron while he was distracted by dueling Hermione.  He would turn and try to figure out who was cursing him, but everyone managed to keep a straight face.

 

* * *

 

            After dinner that evening, three teachers, one medi-witch, and two Marauders met in Minerva’s quarters.  Regulus sipped his cup of tea, happily snacking on Minnie’s ginger biscuits while both Remus and Sirius were nursing a splash of firewhiskey.  Severus had elected to only drink water for the evening, and refused any glasses given to him by Remus or the Black brothers for fear of being pranked.

            “I’m afraid that we’ll have to close the school if the person behind these attacks are not stopped,” said Minerva who was sitting primly in a stiff armchair.

            “Albus should have closed the school the instant poor Mr. Creevey was attacked,” Poppy said, her voice dripping with disdain and disappointment.

            “I agree,” added Regulus.  “But, it’s unlikely that he’s going to do so without the Board of Governor’s interfering, so we should take whatever precautions we can to protect the students.  I know that Hermione Granger is probably going to be a target, since she’s the first Slytherin Muggleborn in decades, if not centuries.  The fake Heir of Slytherin will not like that.”

            Remus had a thoughtful expression on his face, which usually either made Sirius excited or terrified.  It was his “I’m thinking and I might come up with a plan to take over the world” look, and James had always said that when Remus looked like that, they needed to run.

            “You know, what if this Heir of Slytherin doesn’t realize that he’s been overthrown?” Remus mused.

            Severus’s eyes widened in surprise.  “Harry only became the Heir of Slytherin because he conquered the last Heir.  And, as far as we know, he’s only beaten one person in his life.”

            Minerva and Poppy both gasped as they came to the same conclusion, Regulus just a second after them.  “Voldemort,” he bit out angrily.  “He’s one of the most well-known Parselmouths, besides Slytherin himself, and we know that he’s taken precautions against dying.  What if one of his Horcruxes was in the hands of a student?”

            Poppy went quite pale at this statement.  “Do you really think that You-Know-Who created Horcruxes?” she asked, horrified.

            Sirius squeezed the matron’s hand, giving her a comforting smile.  “Unfortunately, yes.  We’ve already found two of his Horcruxes; one in Salazar Slytherin’s locket, and one in Harry’s scar.  The goblins were so kind as to remove the bits of soul in Harry in the summer, and destroyed the other fragment as well.  We have no idea if he’s made other Horcruxes, but we have to assume that he has.  We have to be prepared for the worst.  That’s why I wanted to teach the kids how to duel properly, starting with the Shield Charm.”

            “That is a good idea, Black,” said Severus rather reluctantly.  “When the Dark Lord returns, it is likely that Dumbledore’s going to expect me to spy on him again.  I can’t do that anymore.  I won’t be able to hide my relationship with Harry from Voldemort, and he will use me to get to him.  I can’t let that happen.”

            “When the time comes, Severus,” said Minerva, “we’ll keep Dumbledore from trying to use you.  While he will want to have an agent on the inside, his desire to keep Harry alive is greater.  He might have known about the Horcrux in Harry, because I overheard him saying that, when the time comes, Harry will be ready to die for the good of the wizarding world.  We cannot allow him to turn Harry into his child soldier.”

            “Agreed,” said Remus.  “However, we should probably discuss what is happening now.  I mean, if one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes is behind the Chamber of Secrets, then how are we going to figure out who is responsible.  Is it even possible for the Horcrux to possess someone?”

            Regulus was thinking about the Chamber of Secrets and everything they had learned about it.  “Remus, you’re the most knowledgeable in dark and dangerous creatures.  What do you think is capable of petrifying its victims and can speak Parseltongue?”

            Remus thought for a moment.  “Well . . . there are a few options.  The Quetzalcoatl is native to South America, so it is highly unlikely that it would be living in Scotland; the weather’s too cold.  It could be a cockatrice, since they’re native to England and they are able to kill it’s victims by looking at them, touching them, or even breathing on them.  They are also extremely venomous.  The scitalis pins a person down with its stare, though no one knows how.  It is possible that the victim is paralyzed before eaten.  Then, there’s the basilisk that is often used to protect ancient tombs and treasuries.  Its stare kills instantly, and its venom is one of the few things that can destroy a Horcrux.  The only known antidote is phoenix tears.  Lastly, there’s Unk Cekula, also known as Unhcegila, which is native to British Columbia and her stare can blind her victim or cause them to go insane.”

            Sirius blinked.  “Well, that doesn’t narrow it down much,” he said softly.  “Most of those could be what’s hunting down these kids, but how is it getting around the castle unseen?  I mean, all of those snakes are huge, and you’d think someone would notice a gigantic snake roaming the halls.”

            “That’s a good point, Sirius,” said Minerva.  “Could the monster turn invisible?”

            Remus shook his head.  “Unless the monster is something completely undocumented and unknown, then no snake can turn itself invisible.  The only magical creature that can is a demiguise.”

            Regulus pointed his wand at a bare wall in Minerva’s living room and conjured a chalkboard.  He took the piece of chalk and started to write.

**Slytherin’s Monster**

  1. **Speaks Parseltongue**
  2. **Petrifies its victims**
  3. **Called herself the “mother of snakes”**
  4. **Her name is Nagammai**
  5. **Moves around the castle without being seen**
  6. **First heard a month into the school year**
  7. **Was heard by Harry before Mrs. Norris’s attack**
  8. **Can only be controlled by the Heir of Slytherin?**
  9. **Melted Colin’s camera**
  10. **Was able to attack and affect a ghost**



In another column, he wrote:

**Chamber of Secrets**

  1. **Rumored to be built by Salazar Slytherin**
  2. **Can only be opened by a Parselmouth?**
  3. **Attacks only happened from the third floor, down**
    1. **Norris outside the 2 nd floor girls’ bathroom**
    2. **Colin Creevey on the stairs to the third floor**
    3. **Justin Finch-Fletchley and Sir Nicholas on the third floor**
  4. **Has been opened before**
    1. **When was it open?**
    2. **Could the ghosts know about it?**
  5. **Dobby knew about the Chamber before school started**
    1. **Warned Harry**
    2. **Sealed the barrier**
    3. **Tampered with the Bludger**
  6. **Dobby is the Malfoy’s house elf**
    1. **Could Lucius Malfoy be behind the Chamber?**
    2. **Discreetly check on Draco and Narcissa**
    3. **Discover what they might know about the Chamber**
  7. **First attack happened on Halloween**
  8. **Strange behavior in the creatures around the castle**
    1. **Chickens are dying**
    2. **Spiders are leaving in droves**
    3. **Strange sounds in the forest—could be acromantulas or other snakes**



            “This is everything we know about the Chamber and the monster.  We just need to find a way to put together the clues,” said Regulus as he put the piece of chalk down.

            The six adults read through both lists intently, absorbing as much information as possible.  Most of them knew about everything on the list already, but there was one point that Severus was having troubles with.

            “What do you mean, discreetly check on Draco and Narcissa?  Neither one of them would hurt any of the students.  Narcissa is meeting up with Mrs. Granger nearly every week for tea, and Draco’s best friend is Hermione Granger.  Neither one of them would have had anything to do with the Chamber of Secrets.”

            Regulus shook his head.  “I don’t think they knowingly have done anything with the Chamber of Secrets, but if Lucius has, then they might know something without realizing it.  Lucius tends to boast whenever he has something planned, and I’m sure that his wife or son would have picked up on what he was boasting about.”

            Severus nodded reluctantly.  “I do have one requirement.  Draco cannot know that we suspect his father.  He loves Lucius, but Lucius’s actions over the past year has made it hard for Draco to want to be around him.  He found out about Lucius voting to let Harry stay with the Dursleys and he knew about him voting to put Sirius back in Azkaban.  The last thing Draco needs is to find out that his father is responsible for the attacks.”

            “I think we can all agree to that,” said Remus.  “Draco’s a wonderful young man.  Harry cares for him deeply, and I don’t want either of them to get hurt.”

            The adults were silent for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts.  Remus poured himself another glass of firewhiskey and took a sip, relishing in the heat that pooled in his belly.  “I really hate to say this, since it’s the last thing any of us want, but I think we should ask Harry to join us when we’re researching the Chamber.  If it can only be opened by a Parselmouth, or if it can only be opened by the Heir of Slytherin, then we will need him in order to stop the attacks.”

            “But he’s just a boy!” cried Madame Pomfrey.  “What if he ends up getting killed because he decided to go down into the Chamber by himself?  None of those creatures Remus named are harmless.”

            “What if we have Harry take Kaida with him wherever he goes, that way he’ll always have protection.  Nothing will harm Harry if she’s with him,” Sirius said.

            “And we’ll ask him to always make sure that one of us is with him if he goes off searching for the entrance,” added Minerva.

            Everyone nodded in agreement, and decided that they would approach Harry tomorrow about their ideas and concerns.

 

* * *

 

            The day after Christmas found the four Slytherins and the twins in the Slytherin common room, playing Wizard’s Twister.  Percy had decided to spend the evening in the library while Ginny had said that she had a headache and had gone to bed.  Hermione was holding her own against the twins, who had decided to see how close to Hermione they could get before she broke and hexed them.  She was currently squished between Fred and George with her legs crossed, and her body pointed towards the ceiling, while Draco called out the next position.  Everyone else had already fallen, and were currently sporting red, blue, yellow, and green.

            “Come on, give it up Hermione,” said George from below the witch.

            “Yeah, you’ll never beat us,” added Fred from above.

            “I bet two Sickles that Fred falls and takes out both of them,” Draco whispered to Ron.

            “Nah, George’ll give out first, and Hermione will somehow trip Fred,” Ron responded.  They shook on it and turned back to watch as the three of them tried to put their left hand on yellow.

            Within seconds, Fred had lost his balance, and all three of them went crashing down.  Unfortunately, they all lost at the same time, meaning that no one won and everyone would have to remain a bright color as they played again until they had a winner.  Ron grumbled and pushed the two Sickles over to Draco, who smirked and pocketed the money before handing Ron a chocolate frog.

            It was then that the door to the common room opened, and Crabbe and Goyle entered.  “Hey guys,” said Crabbe.

            The twins and Hermione were too busy giggling to hear what Crabbe had said.  In fact, they hadn’t even noticed that two more people had joined their group.

            “Hey, Crabbe.  Hi Goyle,” said Draco, looking up from the spinner.  “We haven’t seen you in a while.  Wanna play Twister with us?”

            The two boys exchanged a quick glance before simultaneously shaking their heads.  They went over to the couch, where Harry was sitting, examining his green arms with interest.  Draco followed them and sat next to Harry.

            “Really?  You guys don’t want to play?  It’s one of your favorites,” Draco said.

            “Nah,” answered Goyle.  “We’re both rather full, and I don’t think playing Twister would be good on our stomachs.”

            “Oh, that’s too bad.”

            By this time, Fred, George, Hermione, and Ron had made their way over to the couches and lounged about, ignoring the bright colors they were all sporting.  It was rather nice to have Vincent and Gregory speaking to them again.

            Harry looked up when he felt Draco sit next to him, and had been watching the two hulking Slytherins with interest.

            “What have you guys been up to lately?” he asked.

            Greg shrugged his shoulders while Vincent grunted.

            “What did you think about the Dueling Club that Lockhart did?  Pretty crazy right?” said Fred.  “Did you see me and Draco up on the stage, dueling?  And when he conjured that snake?”

            Greg nodded, and Vincent said, “Yeah we saw it.  We’ve been hearing lots of rumors, too.  Why didn’t you tell us you were a Parselmouth, Harry?”

            At this, everyone exchanged looks.  “Vincent,” said Draco, “you’ve known that Harry can speak Parseltongue since he got Kaida last year.  He taught us all how to say ‘hello’ and ‘good-bye.’”

            “Oh yeah, I forgot,” said Crabbe hurriedly.  Neither boy noticed the way Hermione’s eyes narrowed.

            “What do you think about all this Chamber of Secrets nonsense?” asked Greg.

            “Of course, we think it’s horrible,” cried Hermione.  “I mean, one of our friends was attacked, right after Harry was nearly bludgeoned to death by a rogue Bludger!”  Hermione shot an apologetic look at Harry, who’s shoulders had slumped at the mention of the little first year that had joined the Snake Club with such enthusiasm.

            “Do you know who might be opening the Chamber?” asked Crabbe, trying to hide his excitement.

            Everyone shook their heads.  “A lot of people are saying that Harry’s the one attacking everybody,” said Fred, throwing a glance at the boy in question, “but we all know he wouldn’t do that.  He loves Hermione way too much to risk her wrath, and he would rather die than hurt her or Colin or any of the other muggleborns in the castle.”

            “But what about them muggles you live with.  You hate them,” persisted Crabbe, leaning forward in his seat.

            “I don’t actually hate them,” answered Harry.  “I don’t ever want to see them again, but I wouldn’t wish them to be hurt or petrified or killed.  Even if they weren’t the nicest to me, I still lived with them for ten years and they’re still my relatives.”

            Draco shook his head at his friend.  “You’re way too forgiving, Harry.  I would love nothing more than to hex them into oblivion, and I know everyone who knows you would do the same.”

            Harry blushed a deep red and hid his face into Ron’s side.  Ron chuckled and ruffled Harry’s black hair, messing it up even more than it normally is.  Everyone laughed at the angry look that Harry shot at Ron.  Everyone, that is, except Crabbe and Goyle, who were staring at Harry like he was about to eat Ron alive.

            “What’s up with the two of you?” asked Draco, noticing the fear in his old friends’ faces.

            “Stomach ache,” grumbled Goyle, holding his stomach.  Hermione’s eyes narrowed again.

            “You know,” she said, “I never really thanked you for that wonderful birthday present you gave me this year.”

            Harry raised his eyebrows at his friend.  She shook her head minutely, and signed, **I think someone’s impersonating them.**   Everyone’s eyebrows went up at that, and they turned to look at the two Slytherin boys.

            “You’re welcome,” grunted Crabbe as he flexed his hand.  “Glad you enjoyed it.”

            Then, quite suddenly, he and Goyle stood up and made their way to the common room entrance without looking back at the small group by the fireplace.  Fred made a move to go stop them, but Harry put a hand on his arm.

            “Let them go,” he said softly.  “They’re probably students that are terrified that I’m the one attacking everyone, and they just want to be sure.  I don’t blame them at all.”

            Fred tried to ignore Harry’s voice, but after a moment, he slumped and leaned against his twin, his face in a pout.  “I would have at least liked to have seen who was the one impersonating them.”

            “We may never know, but it’s not important,” said Hermione primly.  “We need to go tell Professor Snape about this; he’ll know what to do about it, and we can find out if they’ve learned anything about the Chamber of Secrets.”

            “But what could make them look so much like the real Crabbe and Goyle,” asked Ron.

            Harry thought for a moment, and then, at the same time, both he and Hermione said, “Polyjuice Potion.”  They giggled and then Harry motioned for Hermione to explain.

            “It’s a really complicated potion that takes at least a month to brew and can be disastrous if it’s wrong.  Some of the ingredients aren’t in the student cupboard, and they would have had to get it from Snape’s personal stores.”

            Harry clapped a hand to his forehead.  “Of course!  That day in Potions, when a firework exploded in Goyle’s Swelling Solution and nearly everyone was hit.  That would have been a great diversion for someone to sneak into Severus’s stores and take what they needed.”

            Hermione’s eyes widened.  “We should go tell Severus right now!”

            Needless to say, Professor Snape was not thrilled.  Everyone got a chill when they saw the look on his face when he realized that he had been stolen from, and the thieves had messed around in his class.  Not even Fred and George were brave enough to throw things around in Potions, since they knew how dangerous unfinished potions could be.

            “I will be investigating this.  Thank you for bringing your concerns to me, and if you encounter any other individuals that are actin strangely, come straight to me or one of the teachers.”  Severus then broke his serious exterior and gave the six students a small smile.  “Now, I think you should go finish your game of Twister unless you want to be colored for the rest of your lives.”

            The group looked at each other and laughed.  The only one that wasn’t a bright color was Draco, and that was only because he was the one calling the different positions.  Together, they went back to the Slytherin common room to play until Ron, surprisingly, beat them all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The list of mythical/magical snakes can be found at:  
> https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Category:Legendary_serpents


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry that it's taken me soooooo long to publish the next chapter. I've had some serious writer's block and have struggled with how to get to the ending of this book. But here it is :)

            Once everyone got back from the holidays, the Snake Club found that there were fewer glares being directed at Harry, much to their delight.  They were getting sick of glaring at a majority of the school, particularly Neville, who was not known for being grumpy.  The Slytherins were used to be discriminated against, and were fine with glaring at anyone that threatened one of their friends.  Neville was still extremely shy and insecure; but he also was extremely loyal to his friends.

            They were able to learn how to brew a basic potion for pimples, learned how to charm knitting needles to make a scarf and then applied that knowledge in Herbology, making scarves for the Mandrakes.  When it came time to put said scarves on the Mandrakes, it proved to be an incredibly difficult challenge.  Terry Boot and Hermione were on the same table as Harry, and when one of the Mandrakes got ahold of Hermione’s curls, it took both boys to pry the plant away from her.  Thankfully, it did not dislodge her earmuffs while pulling on her hair, as the Mandrake’s cry, in such close quarters, would have killed her instantly.

   

* * *

        

Three days before Valentine’s Day found Harry skipped down the hallways, on his way to Ravenclaw Tower to pick up Luna for their weekly game night.  He had his suspicions that she was being bullied by her housemates, though she never said anything, and Harry figured she would when she wanted someone to know.  For now, he was just going to spend as much time with her as he could to keep the bullies away.

            As he was making his way down the hallway of the second floor, he realized that his shoes were wet, and that he was sloshing through two inches of water.

            “What in Merlin’s name?” he whispered, looking down at the mini lake he was wading through.  Almost immediately, he realized that the nearby girls’ bathroom was the source of the water, and he walked inside, determined to stop the flooding before Hogwarts became better suited for a fish tank than a school.

            All the faucets were on and the sinks were overflowing.  “Hello?” Harry called, wanting to make sure that the bathroom was empty, though he didn’t think anyone would stay in a bathroom covered in water.

            A girl came floating out of a stall, glaring at Harry.

            “What are you doing here?” she demanded.

            “Oh, I noticed all the water out in the hallway and came in to turn the faucets off so that the water doesn’t spread through the castle,” answered Harry pleasantly.  He got a closer look at the girl and realized that she was Moaning Myrtle, and that she was crying.  “Are you alright, Myrtle?”

            She turned away from him, and floated up to the window, high in the wall.

            “Uh, Myrtle, I can’t read your lips if you’re clear up there.  I want to help, but I can’t if I don’t know what happened.”

            She turned her back on Harry, ignoring him completely.

            Harry shook his head and turned off all of the faucets, taking note that one of them was not working.  He looked back at Myrtle and sighed.  What could he do to make her look at him?  The answer was that he should touch her to get her attention, though he knew that his hand would pass right through her.  It might shock her into looking at him.

            What he didn’t expect, though, was that when Harry reached up to touch Myrtle’s ankle, he could feel the flesh and bone underneath his hand, though it was icy cold.  He drew his hand back in shock.

            “How did you do that?” asked Myrtle, floating down from the window to stand in front of Harry.  She reached out and touched his shoulder, poking at him with her eyes wide.  “I can touch you!  How can I touch you?”

            “I was told that I was gifted with Death Magic, which means I can interact with those that are already dead as though they are living.  I guess that means I can touch you and you can touch me.”

            Myrtle was now running her hands through Harry’s hair, marveling at the texture and feel of something after fifty years of being dead.  “I haven’t ever met anyone that has been blessed by Death Magic before,” she murmured.  “Nor have I met a ghost that has encountered one.  Even the Bloody Baron and Sir Nicholas haven’t, and they’re ancient.”

            “I didn’t realize that it was such a rare gift,” Harry said, his eyes widening in surprise.

            “Oh, it is,” answered Myrtle, who was running her hands along Harry’s cheeks.

            Harry gently took Myrtle’s hands and pulled them away from his face, looking into the girl’s watery eyes.  “Now, what happened that made you want to flood the bathroom?” he asked softly.

            Myrtle’s shoulders slumped and her eyes welled up with ghostly tears.  “Someone thought it would be funny to throw a book through my head,” she wailed.

            “Who would do something like that?”  Harry was rather shocked, as he couldn’t believe that anyone would do something so nasty to a ghost that was already perpetually miserable.

            “I don’t know!” Myrtle whimpered.  “I was just sitting in the U-bend, thinking about death, when it fell right through the top of my head.  I washed it out over there.”

            She pointed to a small black book in a corner, sopping wet.  Harry picked it up carefully, and wrapped it in his cloak before placing it in his bookbag.  He didn’t want all of his other textbooks to get wet.

            “I’ll take it to Professor McGonagall.  She might be able to find out who threw the book at you.”  Harry paused, debating on whether he should ask or not.  He made up his mind.  “Myrtle, why would someone throw a book at you?”

            “A lot of people like to throw things at me!” she snapped.  “They think it’s funny.  Ten points if you get it through her stomach!  Fifty points if it goes through her head!”

            “But that’s horrible!  Just because you can’t feel it doesn’t mean that it’s nice!”

            Myrtle gave a watery smile.  “You’re nice.  I remember you from Nearly Headless Nick’s Deathday party.  You were really nice to him, and you were really nice to me.”  
            Harry squeezed Myrtle’s hand.  “I know what it’s like to be treated horribly, and I don’t ever want to be the one to bully someone else.  Regardless if the person is a werewolf, a giant, a ghost, or a house elf, I will always treat them with respect.”  Then, something that Myrtle had said triggered a thought.

            “Myrtle, the night that Mrs. Norris was attacked, there was water on the floor, and it happened just outside your bathroom.  Were you in here that night?”

            The ghost girl nodded her head.  “Peeves was teasing me something awful, after you and your friends left.  He kept calling me fat and pimply and ugly.  I came up here to try to kill myself, but I remembered that I had already died.  That was when I flooded the bathroom.  I suppose that the person behind these attacks came right about then, but I didn’t hear them.”

            The story gave Harry a lot to think about.  After thanking Myrtle, and giving her one last hug to try to cheer her up, Harry headed down to his common room, his thoughts on the mysterious book and the night that Mrs. Norris was attacked.

 

* * *

 

            “Maybe we could use a Revealer,” Hermione suggested, as she, Harry, Ron, Draco, and Neville flipped through the diary.  Every single page was blank.  The only identifying features of the diary was the publisher’s date and the name T. M. Riddle stamped on the front.  According to the date, the diary was fifty years old, and yet, not one thing was written in it.

            “A Revealer doesn’t really work,” Draco argued.  “They like to advertise them as allowing you to read any invisible ink, but most manufacturers of invisible ink enchant it with various spells so it can only be detected by the person that wrote it.”

            Hermione slumped in her seat.  She had the big, eraser-thing in her hand.  “I guess this is kind of worthless, then,” she grumbled, tossing the Revealer into her bookbag.

            “It’s alright, Hermione,” Neville said, patting the girl on the shoulder.  “My Gran bought me another Remembrall, but they don’t really help you remember what you’ve forgotten.  They’re kind of useless, too.”

            Harry was flipping through the pages, examining each one carefully before moving on to the next.  There were the dates, printed at the top of each page, making it rather obvious that the diary was meant to be used every day, either as a diary or as a planner.  There was nothing on the pages, but it had a strong magical trace on it.

            “Do you think it picked up magic while here at Hogwarts?” Harry asked, startling Ron and Hermione out of an argument about invisible ink and its uses.

            **What do you mean?** Draco signed.

            “This diary has some kind of magical signature on it, but it was bought in Muggle London.  Do you think it might have picked up some magic while here at Hogwarts or with the student that this belongs to?”

            Neville looked thoughtful.  **It’s possible,** he signed slowly.  **When certain ordinary objects come into contact with magic, they can take on that same magic.  It’s like how muggle kitchen appliances start off okay in a wizarding household, but they’ll eventually gain a will of their own.  The Weasley’s mirror is a good example.**

            He reached across the table for the diary, hoping to examine it, but on the way, his elbow bumped into Hermione’s ink pot.  The navy ink tipped over and spread its way across the table, coating the diary, as well as all of their papers in blue.

            With a loud cry, the five friends jumped to their feet, snatching whatever papers and essays they had had on the table.  Harry clutched the diary close to his chest, despite it being covered in the ink.

            “I’m sorry!  I’m so sorry,” Neville babbled, trying to wipe the ink up with his sleeve.  His blue eyes were watering, and his chin quivering.

            “It’s okay, Neville,” Harry said soothingly.  “It’s not hard to vanish the ink, see.”  A muttered incantation later, and the ink was all cleaned up, though the parchments were still stained blue.  “Well, I’m not perfect at that spell yet, but it’s much better than it was.”

            Draco patted Neville’s shoulder.  “Why don’t we take a break for a while.  We can go join Theo and Blaise.  They’re playing Gobstones near the fire.”

            Ron followed them over to the fire, where he challenged an older Slytherin to a game of chess.  Hermione was methodically rewriting her Charms essay onto a fresh piece of parchment, despite the fact that her words were still legible through the faint blue color.  Harry sat back down at the table, and set the diary in front of him.  He opened it and started to flick through it again.  Something was off about the diary, but for a second, Harry couldn’t decide what was wrong.

            “Hermione!” he hissed as he waved frantically at Neville, Draco, and Ron.

            Within seconds, the other three were once again sitting around the table watching as Harry flipped through the diary.

            **What?** asked Ron.

            “Look.  Look at the diary!”

            **It looks the same as it did before,** signed Draco slowly.

            Harry nodded.  “Exactly.  It looks the exact same as it did before ink spilled all over it.  It’s not even tinged blue, like it should.”

            Hermione snatched the diary up and thumbed through it as fast as she could.  “How is that possible?” she asked, setting it back down once she was done.

            Harry pulled out his own bottle of ink and a quill.  He let a single drop fall onto December 14.  They all held their breath as they watched the ink blot sit there for a moment.  Then, slowly, the ink seeped into the page, leaving it as clean as if it had just barely been bought.

            “Check the next page,” Ron demanded.  They flipped to December 15, but there was no ink blot there either.

            **This is really weird,** signed Draco, looking rather nervous.

            Harry dipped his quill into the pot again, and held it poised over the page.  He started to write, _“Hello, my name is—”_

            “Wait,” Neville said, his hand grabbing Harry’s wrist and causing the ink to blot again.  “We don’t know what kind of magic this diary has.  It could be dangerous.”

            “Well, yeah,” Harry responded.  “That’s why I’m investigating it.”

            “If you’re going to write to it, don’t use your real name,” Neville insisted.  “You’re famous, and there are a lot of evil people that would love to trap you.  Use my name, instead.”

            Harry nodded.  Neville made sense.  The words had already sunk into the page, hidden by the giant ink blot, so he tried again.  _“Hello, my name is Nev.”_

            The words vanished, only to be replaced by new words.

            _“Hello Nev.  My name is Tom Riddle.  How did you get this diary?”_

            “It can talk back!” cried Harry, before glancing around the common room sheepishly.  Theo and Blaise looked over interestedly, but Harry waved them down, mouthing _I’ll tell you later._   They went back to their game.

            **What should we do?**   Ron’s face was rather pale, and he looked like he was going to be sick.  **My dad told us to never trust something if we can’t see where it’s got its brain.**

**Your dad was very smart,** answered Draco.  **I suggest that we take the diary to Professor Snape.**

            “I want to test the magic it has,” said Harry, picking up the diary.

            Ron shook his head violently.  “That’s a bad idea.  We don’t know what type of magic is powering this thing!  It could possess you or kill you.”

            Hermione had a thoughtful look on her face.  “I know I’ve heard the name Tom Riddle before, but I can’t remember where.”

            Draco stood up.  “Neville and I are going to take Harry and the diary to Professor Snape.  Why don’t the two of you grab Theo and Blaise, and start learning everything we can about Tom Riddle.  There’s got to be something in the student records that will help us.”

            The three boys left the common room, Neville and Draco each holding onto one of Harry’s elbows.  Outside the Slytherin common room, they accidentally bumped into Ginny Weasley.  She stuttered an apology out, but Harry noticed that her eyes were fixed on the diary, almost as if she had seen it before.

            “Sorry for bumping into you, Ginny,” said Neville, breaking Ginny’s stare as she looked at the Gryffindor.

            “It’s alright.  You couldn’t have known that I was right outside,” she mumbled back before entering the common room.

            Harry watched her disappear.  “She’s been really quiet ever since Colin got attacked.  Do you think she’s alright?”

            Draco nudged Harry.  “If nothing else, Ginny is tough.  She’ll be okay.”  He paused for a moment.  “But we can keep an eye on her.”

            Unfortunately, when they got to Severus’s office, he was out, and so they had no choice but to go back to the common room and try to take their mind off of the diary.  Harry, however, decided to write a letter.

            _Dear Mr. Griphook,_

_I don’t really know how to address goblins in a letter, and I hope that you are not offended by being called Mr. Griphook.  Anyway, there have been some strange things happening at Hogwarts, and I think they might be caused by Voldemort or one of his Horcruxes.  I found a diary that can write back to you, and it says its name is Tom Riddle._

_Is there a way to tell if something is a Horcrux?  I’m not sure if the diary is a Horcrux, or if Tom Riddle is even Voldemort, but I don’t want to take the chance that Voldemort is possessing someone at the school._

_Anyway, I hope that you can give me some information on Horcruxes and if you want me to send the diary to you._

_Sincerely,_

_Harry Potter_

            Once the letter was finished, Harry read through it once more before setting it aside to take to the owlery the next morning.  He had learned not to take a letter to the owlery late at night after the attack the previous year that had left him in the hospital wing for a few weeks.  Instead, he wandered up to his bed, exhausted from playing numerous games with his friends.  He would deal with the diary in the morning.

 

* * *

 

             First thing the next morning, Harry put the diary at the bottom of his trunk and cast an alarm spell that would let him know if anyone besides himself accessed the trunk.  Then, it was off to the owlery to send the letter to Griphook.  HE still wanted to tell Severus or Uncle Reg or Aunt Minnie about the diary, but they seemed to be preoccupied with corralling Lockhart or escorting students around the school.  And the last thing Harry wanted to do was bother anyone.  He might have talked to one of his guardians if one of his friends went with him, but they all seemed to have forgotten all about the diary in favor of Valentine’s Day, which was less than a week away.

            It was a little odd for Harry to truly experience the Day of Love.  Last year, he hadn’t paid attention and with the Dursleys, he was expected to keep quiet and stay hidden.  Now, though, he helped Neville make a card for a “friend” to show his appreciation to.

            “My Gran and I never put much stock in Valentine’s Day traditions.  We always treated it as a day to celebrate family and friends.  Besides, we’re a little too young to pursue romance.  That’ll come later.  And Hermione’s been helping me loads with potions.  I want her to know how grateful I am for that,” Neville explained with a shy smile.

            “That makes sense.  After all, there are all kinds of love,” Harry responded thoughtfully.

            Unfortunately, on Valentine’s Day, it appeared as though Lockhart only cared about one kind of love, based on the explosion of pink that was the Great Hall.  At first, the snakes of the Snake Club laughed it off as a Weasley twin prank.  That theory changed when they saw the twins glowering up at the teachers’ table.  Specifically, at one teacher.  That was wearing awful pink robes.

            “Ugh, Lockhart,” Ron grumbled.

            “This must be what the teachers have been grumpy about,” suggested Theo.

            The snakes got to the Hufflepuff table, deciding to sit with Hannah and Susan, despite the glares everyone else sent their way.  Harry promptly laid his head on the table and fell asleep.

            “Is Harry okay?” asked Daphne, looking at the boy with concern.

            “I hope so.  I heard him moving to the bathroom a couple times last night, and I think I heard him whispering to Kaida,” Draco said.  “Regulus told us to keep an eye out for nightmares, and maybe he had one last night.”

            Hermione frowned, her face scrunched up in a way that told their friends that she was probably about to head to the library.  She opened her mouth to say something, but their attention was called for by the DADA professor.

            “Happy Valentine’s Day!” Lockhart shouted, causing those nearest the Head Table to cover their ears while the professors looked close to hexing their colleague.  “And may I thank the forty-two people who have so far sent me cards!  Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all—and it doesn’t end here!”

            The males in the Great Hall groaned, as did many of the girls that had witnessed Lockhart interacting with Harry.  “There’s more?” Blaise said incredulously while desperately trying not to stare at the man’s robes in disgust.

            Lockhart clapped his hands and through the doors to the Entrance Hall marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs.  Not just any dwarfs, however.  Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

            “My friendly, card-carrying cupids!” beamed Lockhart.  “They will be roving around the school today, delivering your Valentine’s.  And the fun doesn’t stop there!  I’m sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion!  Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion!  And while you’re at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I’ve ever met, the sly old dog!”

            The Snake Club turned their eyes towards their mentioned professors.  Professor Flitwick had his face buried in his hands, while Professor Snape looked as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

            Ron groaned again.  “Please tell me that none of you sent that git a card.”

            Immediately, the girls protested, giving the redhead looks of disgust.  All except Pansy, who had a smug look on her face.  Ron stared at her in horror, but before he could say anything, she announced, “Just wait for it.”  Less than a minute later, the owl post swooped in and an owl from the Hogsmeade Post Office dropped a lavender envelope in front of Lockhart.  He beamed and opened it.

            “YOU LAVENDER TWINK!!  YOU ARE A SNOT-NOSED BOOT-LICKER THAT WOULD DO ANYTHING FOR TEN MINUTES IN THE SPOTLIGHT!  YOU ARE UNFIT FOR TEACHIGN STUDENTS!  I WOULD RATHER HAVE A WEREWOLF AS A TEACHER THAN YOU!  NO STUDENT SHOULD _EVER_ BE LEFT ALONE WITH YOU!  I PROMISE YOU THAT I WILL BE TALKING TO THE BOARD OF GOVERNORS ABOUT YOUR APPOINTMENT!”

            The envelope burst into flame, leaving a stunned Great Hall.  A beat.  Then two.  Then . . . the Great Hall burst into laughter and applause, led by the Snake Club, while Pansy sat, looking like the proud Queen she was.

            Harry woke up then, startled from his nap by Hedwig dropping a letter on his head.  He looked around blearily at his friends before deciding it would be better not to ask.  Instead he looked at the letter he had received.  It was written on official Gringotts stationary.  He eagerly tore open the letter and began to read.

 

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

_I thank you for your polite inquiry regarding our customs.  However, they would be difficult to explain through a letter.  I recommend you discuss goblin customs with Professor Flitwick, as he is well-versed in our culture.  I also wish to ease your worries regarding any perceived offense.  I know that you meant your greeting to be as polite and respectful as possible and I could never find offense in that, regardless of proper language or goblin customs._

_On the matter of the Horcrux, I believe it would be best if you send the diary to us immediately.  It would be better to test for black magic than ignore on the chance that it might not be a Horcrux.  Please send it to us as soon as possible._

_The attacks occurring at Hogwarts are very worrisome, particularly since there has been no news other than your letter and a correspondence from Lord Black.  Therefore, we offer the services of our best curse-breaker to search for malicious magical traces in the castle.  Mr. William Weasley has the highest credentials we offer and would be willing to look for this rumored Chamber of Secrets.  He will be arriving within the next fortnight._

_Thank you for reaching out to us._

_May your treasures grow to fill caverns._

_Griphook, Goblin of Gringotts_

_Advisor to King Ragnok.”_

            Harry grabbed his bag and raced from the table, unaware of the concerned looks his friends were sending his way.  He had to hurry if he was going to be able to grab the diary before class started.  In the end, he barely made it to Transfiguration before he was marked late.  He sat next to Hermione and felt his stomach grumble from hunger.  Harry looked down in surprise that was equaled by his closest friends.  Hermione slid over a container of apple slices, beaming the entire time before turning her attention back to Professor McGonagall, who seemed to be in a much better mood then she was in at breakfast.

            The rest of the morning passed, with the only exciting thing to happen was the occasional interruption that the cupid/dwarfs would bring.  It was extremely annoying, although Harry’s confusion regarding the dwarfs provided quality entertainment until Neville took pity on him and explained Lockhart’s unpleasant surprise.

            Hermione was also the brave student that asked Professor Snape about Love Potions.  However, she asked about the harm that a Love Potion could cause, leading to one of the most thought-inspiring lectures they had ever received.  Severus also assured them that if any of them were caught with a Love Potion, they would be expelled immediately.

            It was just before lunch that one of the dwarfs caught up to Harry.  All the Slytherins seemed to think that he would have gotten a Valentine delivered at the start of the day.

            “Oi, you!  ‘Arry Potter!” shouted a particularly grim-looking dwarf, who elbowed people out of the way to get to Harry.

            The Snake Club tried to form a protective barrier around Harry, but they didn’t stand a chance against the determined dwarf.  Harry, once he realized what was happening and who was receiving a Valentine, felt heat flood through his whole head.  Immediately, he turned in the opposite direction of the dwarf, desperately trying to get through a line of giggling first years.  He spotted the long, red hair of Ginny Weasley, and tried to gesture to her for help, but she just snickered behind her hand.  The dwarf ploughed his way through the crowds, kicking shins and ankles and shoving to get through, and reached Harry before he got through the line of first years.

            “I’ve got a musical message to deliver to ‘Arry Potter in person,” Harry managed to read on the dwarf’s lips.  He twanged his harp in a threatening way.

            “Please!  Not here,” he begged, still trying to find a way to escape.  With none of his friends close, he was starting to panic.

            “Stay _still_!” grunted the dwarf, grabbing hold of Harry’s bag and pulling him back.

            “Let me go!” Harry shouted frantically, his panic bleeding into his voice.  He tugged on his bag, hoping to escape.

            With a loud ripping noise, his bag split in two.  His books, wand, parchment, and quill spilled onto the floor and his ink bottle smashed over everything.

            Harry scrambled forward, trying to pick it all up, and mopping up the ink with his robes.  Hands grabbed at him , too tight, too tight, too tight!  He was kneeling in a puddle of red.  Ink?  No, blood.  NO, ink.  Ink.  He was at school, he was safe.

            Blue overtook the red.  They were a familiar blue.  Where had he seen that blue before?

            Neville.

            His face was moving.  Was that important?  
            Fingers.  Hands spelled out words.

            You.  Are.  Safe.

            You.  Are.  Safe.

            You.  Are.  Safe.

            “I am safe.”  The words tumbled out of his mouth and Harry was shocked to realize he believed them.  He focused more on Neville.  The boy was breathing deep and steady and Harry found himself taking in his first breath of air in what felt like minutes.  Immediately, Harry felt the burn in his lungs and he gulped in air, trying to alleviate the pain.

            A weight was placed on Harry’s chest and he panicked, pushing away from the object.  But the weight followed and Harry finally looked down.  Neville’s hand was pressing slightly in a pattern that matched his own breathing.  It was several minutes before Harry understood that his friend wanted him to copy his breathing.  He tried, but it was hard at first.  Slowly, though, he was able to breathe more comfortably and he found his head clearing to the point where he could take stock of his surroundings.

            Hermione, Ron, and Draco were closest to him, watching him closely, with concern written plainly in their faces.  The other second years had formed a circle around the area, keeping the student body from getting to close.  Fred and George and Ginny were gathering all his books together, siphoning off the red ink as much as they could and stacking the books neatly.

            Pansy had turned when she heard Harry’s voice, and now she took charge.  “Come on, Harry,” she signed.  “Let’s go get some tea.  It will help you feel better.”  She grabbed his hands and gently guided him into a stand.

            It wasn’t until lunch was almost over that Harry remembered Griphook’s letter that he had received that morning.  He immediately started rifling through his fixed bag, pulling books out and stacking them on the table.  The Snake Club looked at him in alarm.  He had been in the middle of a panic attack not even an hour ago and now, he was desperately searching for something.

            “The diary!  It’s gone!” Harry cried out, giving up his frantic search.

            Confusion joined the concern.  The first person to figure it out was Neville.

            “The diary you found in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom?”

            “Yes, that diary.  I was going to send it to Griphook today because I got a letter from him.  He agreed that there’s a chance that the diary was one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes, possibly his first.  But it’s gone!”

            “Merlin’s Beard!” muttered Theo.  “That means that whoever is attacking students is being possessed by—” he made the sign of cutting off his nose.  Many people were still not comfortable with saying Voldemort’s name and in the Snake Club, they just used his name sign that they had given him.

            Not even the twins could make a joke out of that.  Instead they put an arm around each other and pulled Ron towards them before looking for Ginny.  She was sitting on the Gryffindor table with the others in her year, not paying attention to the Snake Club or to Percy who was trying to get her to eat something green.

            “Why does it always have to be Voldemort?” Harry grumbled into his potatoes.  “Why can’t we have a normal year for once?”

            “Sorry, mate, but I think that’s just your luck,” said Neville, patting Harry on the shoulder.  “Since the end of last year, I’ve resigned myself to having some kind of adventure with you, every year until You-Know-Who is gone for real or until we graduate.”

            “Are you kidding?” exclaimed Daphne.  “Harry’s never going to stop having adventures.  And I, for one, don’t want to have a boring life, so I’m going to be right there next to him.”

            “But we’ll probably be fighting Voldemort for years, and he’s probably going to come back at some point.  You could be killed if you are friends with me,” Harry said, looking earnestly at each of his friends.  “As much as I love being your friend, I could never forgive myself if one of you was killed because of me.”

            The conversation turned to a loud argument about how they were there with him to the end of the line, even if that line meant death.  No one paid any attention to Hermione, Luna, Pansy, Blaise, and Draco, who were all whispering furiously with each other.  Something seemed to have been decided, because Hermione stood up abruptly, startling Theo so much that he dropped his goblet of pumpkin juice.

            “Merlin, Mia!  You scared me!”

            She ignored him in favor of pulling Harry to his feet.

            “Mione?  What are you doing?” Harry asked.

            “We’re going to talk to Professor Snape right now.  Professor McGonagall and Professor Sable, too, if we can help it.  They need to know about the Horcrux, and we should have told them when we found it.”

 

* * *

 

            “What do you mean, you lost a Horcrux?”  Nearly everyone in the room winced, Harry most of all.  He couldn’t hear the dangerous lilt in Severus’s voice, but he could see the anger simmering below the surface of the black eyes.  It terrified him, and he shrunk back, reaching for Hermione’s hand in comfort.  Draco was on his other side, and he put his hand on Harry’s shoulder as an offer of his support.

            Minnie got his attention and said, **“I think stories are best told from the beginning.  How did you get the Horcrux in the first place?”**

            Harry told them everything from the moment he had realized the girls’ bathroom was flooding to when he received a letter from Gringotts earlier that morning.

            “And how, pray tell, did you manage to lose it in that short amount of time?” Severus cut in, snapping his fingers at Harry.

            With a tiny flinch that only Hermione and Draco could feel, he told them about his encounter with the holiday dwarf and how his bookbag had broken, spilling everything onto the ground.  He finished with the panic he had felt in the Great Hall when he realized that the diary was not in his bag or with any of his other books.

            “Why wouldn’t you bring this to our attention?” Severus drawled, drawing himself up to his full height and taking a step closer so he was looming over the quivering boy in front of him.

            “You—you—you were b-b-busy, and—and I didn’t w-want to be a—a bother,” Harry stuttered out, hanging his head in shame.

            Regulus, while disappointed in the students for not coming forward with the Horcrux, was watching Harry closely.  He noticed the fear in his eyes as he spoke to his Head of House, particularly when Severus used his imposing height to his advantage.  And suddenly, all Regulus could see was little Harry cowering away from his uncle.

            “Severus!” he snapped.  “That’s enough!”

            Both Severus and Minerva looked at Regulus in surprise, as did many of the other students that were in the room with them.  Ignoring them all, the man focused all his attention on the little boy that was seeking comfort from his friends, while obviously trying to fight off a panic attack.

            It took a little maneuvering, but Regulus made sure his hands were within the boy’s line of sight as he signed, **Harry, you’re okay.  None of us are going to hurt you and you aren’t going to be punished.  You are _not_** **a bother, and you never will be.  If something happens, I want you to come to us, regardless of what we’re doing.  And in the future, the second you think you have a Horcrux, you let me know and I’ll take care of it, personally.**

Harry nodded and wiped his eyes free of the tears that had welled up.  “I’ll try to get the diary back.  I don’t know who took it, but maybe I can talk to Myrtle again and see if she remembers anything else.”

            Regulus nodded approvingly.  “Always try to research _before_ you jump into things.  We don’t want a repeat of last year.”  
            “I’m sorry, Reg,” Harry whispered, throwing himself into his friend’s arms.  “I’m sorry I let it get away.  But I swear we’ll find it again.”

            “Just like your father,” Regulus murmured into the boy’s shoulder.  “Desperate to make things right when you make a mistake.”

            The little Slytherin pulled away and gave a soft smile to Regulus, one that never failed to warm his heart.  Then, he turned to the other two teachers, who were both looking rather sorry.  
            “I’m sorry, Severus and Aunt Minnie.  I’ll help you look for the diary.  I know it’s somewhere in the castle, and I’m sure we’ll be able to find out who took it.”

            “No, Harry, I’m the one that should be sorry,” Severus said, taking Regulus’s place.  “I was upset, but I shouldn’t have taken it out on you like that.  You should never feel like you’re a bother to any of us, and we’ll always help you when you need us.  I hope you can forgive me for my horrible behavior.”

            “Of course, Sev.  And in the future, I’ll tell one of you about something dangerous that I find.”  
            “See that you do.  And let us pray that you don’t find yourself in any more danger than you already have been in.”

            Harry giggled.  “I don’t go looking for trouble, but it seems to find me no matter what I do.” 

            And wasn’t that the truth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, Bill Weasley's surprise appearance was a shock for me too, but I really like it, so I'm gonna keep it. Next up, Hermione's petrification and how that affects the Snake Club.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so the first chapter wasn't that different, but the next ones are gonna be, and you should pay particular attention to the Heir procedure in the next chapter. I've also decided to not name my chapters. Sorry.  
> Leave comments and kudos!! I love you all!!!


End file.
